Titanic
by MissWitch250
Summary: Wanda has a place on the Titanic, the largest ship in the world that would take her to America with her father and brother. Can a woman brought up by hate and terror find love in a crazy Australian? Of course! Major Jonda, Romy, and Kiotr!
1. Chapter 1

"Titanic"

Okay, I'm beginning to think that I have an obsession. I love Jonda. Very very much, and now I'm writing another fan fiction. But this one is like, a spoof from Titanic. There is powers. WOOT! JONDA, ROMY, and KIOTR! the story will have some stuff from the comics, only because it works so well, so if you're confused about anything, that's probably why.

X-Men belong to marvel comics, Titanic belongs to um, paramount pictures. I own nothing. sadface. Oh, and by the way, there is a high chance of main character death in the later chapters. Double sadface.

* * *

The ship Titanic was scheduled to leave at noon, but people were arriving at least five hours before then, all ready to board and leave. It was the largest ship ever built in Europe, and tickets were not cheap. Erik Lehnsherr knew that, but none-the-less, he bought three first class tickets to America. The tickets were for himself and his children, Wanda and Pietro. They were a family of mutants, known also as Magneto, Quicksilver, and The Scarlet Witch, and the children were going to America in chains.

Wanda stepped out of the car, her red dress was elegant and expensive, she herself was gorgeous.

"C'mon Sis, Dad's in a hurry." Pietro, her brother touched her elbow to get her attention. She flinched and sneered at him. A year before, she and her brother had lived in Romania. She was convicted of being a witch when she was six, and since then had been living in an asylum. It had traumatized her.

"Father can wait. The ship doesn't leave for another two hours. We have time to spare." Wanda's voice was cold and polite, but Pietro knew what she was really saying. 'Fuck Dad, I hate him.' The boy sighed and ran ahead to where his father was getting his health inspection. It was hard for him to act normal around the humans, his mutation made him an extremely fast runner, and even talking slower drove him insane.

"Your turn, Mr. Maximoff." A voice brought the speedster out of his thoughts. A man holding a comb was talking to him, it was a lice check. Pietro looked around and saw his father getting a shot. He grimaced slightly, Wanda hated needles, she would likely cause a scene.

Finished with the inspection and 'lice free' as the man had said, Pietro waited for his sister. Sure enough, Wanda made a small scene with the needles, but she behaved better then Pietro had expected. When she was finished, he gave her a one armed hug.

"You did great, sis. I'm proud." He could see the happy smile in her eyes, but it never showed on her face. The happy and cheerful Wanda had died years ago.

"Let's just get on the boat." The two of them walked towards the boarding area where their father was waiting for them. He gave them a stare and headed to the ship. Up ahead, Wanda saw a little girl. She was obviously third class, by the simply dress she wore, in her arms was a bunny stuffy. The little girl was playing and running around, and she tripped, and bumped into a man. The man looked down at her, and kicked her out of his way.

Wanda felt a familiar anger inside her, and ran towards the small girl now sitting in a dirty puddle, the left side of her face was scratched and bleeding slightly. She helped the small girl up and helped brush away the dirt. Without thinking, she used her powers. Wanda could alter reality itself, and used that to make the girl's scraped up cheek to heal instantly. Feeling weak after wards, she turned to the rich man who kicked the little girl

"How could you kick a girl. She was just playing." Wanda burst out as the man walked away. He turned at sneered at her and continued on his way. The girl's father called, and she ran towards him, leaving Wanda alone with a small thank you.

A loud smack and a sharp pain greeted Wanda when she stood up. Her father grabbed hold of her upper arm and growled into her ear.

"If you ever do something like that again, I'll make sure you'll suffer for the rest of you considerably shortened life." Wanda felt herself get drowsy as her father messed with the iron in her system **(1)**.

"Father, People are staring." Pietro whispered, trying to help his sister without getting their father angry. It worked, and the two of them headed for the ship.

The first class part of the ship was elegant. Women, men, and children all dressed in the newest fashions of Europe. Wanda felt sickened by it. She wasn't used to the rich life, and having to act like a lady was seriously harming her sanity.

When she had memorized where her room was located, Wanda ditched at first chance. It wasn't hard, her father didn't care where she or her brother were, as long as they didn't make him look bad.

Finally free outside, Wanda walked around the deck. People were still boarding, mostly the poorer who were getting last minute tickets. The ship would be leaving in about twenty minutes, and people were really hurrying to get on. A loud laugh caught her attention. Looking down, she saw two men, obviously third class, weaving between the crowds, both carrying worn travel bags. The one laughing had fire red hair, and seemed insane.

Wanda scowled at looked away from the two men. She didn't like remembering about her childhood, it wasn't fair. The insane man's laughter was gone, and Wanda felt a little disappointed. It was familiar to her, and the asylum wasn't all bad. Some of the patients were actually quite nice.

"Stop it, Wanda." She scolded herself, it wasn't good to dwell in the past. With a small sigh, Wanda walked back inside. Her brother would worry about her. She smiled to her self when she thought about Pietro. He was a natural at acting rich, it just suited him. Father should be proud to have a son like him, but instead, he favored his insane daughter. Wanda stared numbly at the large diamond on her ring finger. Why did she have to carry this burden for the family? Life sucked.

* * *

Remy LeBeau looked around the small table. The Fisherman's Pub **(2)** was the perfect place to get a cheep beer, or He and his friend, John Allerdyce, were playing poker with two men who didn't fully speak or understand English. What there was to win were three watches, about fifty bucks, an engagement ring, three lighters, and two tickets on the ship Titanic, to America. The ship would be leaving in ten minutes, so the game really had to get going.

"_D'accord. _Johnny, what do you have?" Remy asked his Australian friend. The Aussie looked at his cards then back to Remy.

"Nothin', mate."

"Sven, Olaf?" Remy asked the two men across from them, Sven, the one on the right, dropped his cards, he had nothing. Olaf, however, showed his.

"Two pair, damn. _Désolé_, John-"

"Sorry, sorry? Those are ma three best loiters. O'l 'ave ta go back ta Sydney. Ya can't just say sorry and think every thing's gonna be hunky-" John stood up and started to yell at his 'friend', but Remy cut him off.

_"Désolé, désolé. _You're not gonna back ta Australia, 'cause we're goin' to America. Full house, _Garçons." _Remy yelled, slapping his cards on the table. John cheered and grabbed all the winnings, stuffing them into his duffel bag. In Remy's astonishment and excitement, he accidentally charged the cards. With a loud bang, the table and two of the chairs caught fire. Olaf and Sven looked at them, before bellowing something foul about mutants, and attacking Remy. John acted quickly and took control of the flame. A large great Dane bit at Olaf's pant leg, catching it on fire. Olaf panicked and tried to pull the dog off, resulting in burning his hand. Remy punched Sven in the jaw as he tried to bash his head in. With a lot of grunting, Gambit managed to get away from the mutant hater, and reached for his cards. One after the other, he threw the now explosive cards at Sven, not hurting him, but scaring him enough that he didn't want to tackle him again.

Suddenly, a gun shot sounded and the bar fell silent and people that were about to help stood still. Remy dropped the uncharged cards and they fell to the floor harmlessly. The barkeep looked at the four people, a shot gun in his hand a stern expression on his face.

"You two had better leave now, before I call the authorities." His voice was commanding and John grabbed his bag. He and Remy headed towards the door.

"Now hold on, I didn't mean you two. I was talking to the mutant haters." The barkeep pointed the barrel of his shot gun at Sven and Olaf. They looked at each other before running out of the bar at full speed. The barkeeper laughed and went back to work, cleaning the counter.

"This here's a sort of sanctuary for mutants. Took me seven years to get my license, and I put it to good use." The barkeeper said, not looking at Remy or John. Looking around, Remy saw that it was true. The room was filled with mutants, a mother was holding her daughter whose hair was a bright green, two women were laughing as their beer glasses hovered above their heads, and at least three people in there were blue. They didn't seem concerned about the mutant haters that just left, they were happy. It felt unnatural, in a good way. Gambit pulled out his wallet.

"Here, _mon amie. _For your help an' ta replace the broken furniture." Remy gave the barkeep all the money in his pocket, and headed for the door with John. He hoped the best for the small bar, the world needed more places like it.

"Oy, mate. We need ta get goin'. Ship leaves in 'bout, three minutes." John exclaimed, looking at his watch. Remy glanced at the ship. It was further away then he thought.

"Let's go." He grabbed the Aussie by his jacket and they ran, weaving between people, cars, and horses, laughing like idiots. They had won two tickets on the largest ship ever made. Remy was going home, and John would finally go to America. They made it onto the ship just in time.

"What's t'e room number?" Remy asked his red headed friend.

"Um, 201b. Where in the 'ell is that?" John asked, searching for a sign.

"Over here, John." The two of them pushed and shoved their way to the room. Inside, it was a brick shit-house. The walls were cheap and plainly white, the two bunk beds were metal and there was only a thin, lumpy mattress to sleep on.

"Are ya serious? This is where we 'ave ta sleep. This shit-hole. Bull shit." John swore loudly and Remy rolled his eyes. He was used to sleeping in dingy hotels, or even under bridges. His family had disowned his when he refused to marry a whore from his home town. Their marriage would have ended a generations old war between the two families, but Remy knew that he would have just ended up murdered in his bed.

"Fuck staying 'ere, mate. Oy'm gonna go walk around deck, mabe flirt with some english girl, waddya say?" John claimed the top bunk and headed ou the door, Remy following. Life sucked.

* * *

First chapter down and not half bad, if I do say so myself. There will be KIOTR in the next chapter, and some one-sided ROMY. Enjoy.

**(1) **I do not own that. From 'Hostage' by Valoofle. One of the best Jonda fics evah!!!!!!  
**(2)** The pub near my house, best burgers in the nowhere town.


	2. Chapter 2

"Titanic"

I'M ALIVE! finally, I update, how long ago was the first chapter? I donno but the second one is HERE! and be reminded that my updates will take longer then necessary due to the fact that my computer would love to see me buried neck deep in elephant dung. Yes a disturbing image but really, my computer hates me.

X-Men belong to marvel comics, Titanic belongs to um, paramount pictures. I own nothing. sadface. Oh, and by the way, there is a high chance of main character death in the later chapters. Double sadface.

Oh, and Wanda's hair is like when she got out of the asylum (you know, before she chopped and dyed)

Rogue's first appearance in this chapter!

* * *

John and Remy walked around the third-class area of the ship, laughing and joking about their lucky day.

"Lucky week, Oy'll tell you, mate!" John laughed manically, making a few strangers look back as they passed. But the Australian ignored them, and pointing to an empty bench, the two friends sat down.

"Well John, are _tu_ still going to find the _femme_ in America?" Remy smirked as he motioned to the brown and worn notebook in John's arm. The pyromaniac's eyes widened and a playful smile appeared upon his lips.

"Why my dear mate, of course! This story needs the perfect sheila, and I want her to be a realistic as possible." John's performance of being insulted was near perfect, as it was an act he had been using since he was ten. In truth, the red haired Australian was an unknown author-in-creation, having yet to actually publish a book, and for his first story all he needed was the main character, a young female with a back story that would boil the blood of any reader.

"Just make sure that the next one is _actually_ a _fille_ t'is time _d'accord. _T'e last _homme_ wasn't too happy." Remy joked, recalling a very humorous incident that included a drag queen. The duo laughed loudly for some time before calming down, and Remy lit a cigarette.

"You know John, finding a _femme_ isn't t'at hard in America. Maybe-" John ignored his friend as he looked up to the first class deck. A girl, no older then sixteen, stood leaning against the railing, staring at him, her black hair was strangely short, up to her chin. The dress she wore was also daring, a deep scarlet red, with black lace wrapping around her neck.

Suddenly, the girl was pulled away by a man with white hair and tanned skin. John felt slight anger and sadness wash over him. The man was probably her fiance or husband.

Looking over to his right and the smell of burning cloth, John noticed Remy who had been trying to capture his attention for the past three minutes. Quickly becoming bored with the simple shaking of the shoulders, the Cajun had tried a different approach, and by using one of his cards, had caught John's shirt on fire.

"Was that _really_ necessary?" John asked, ignoring the tiny flame for the time being.

"_Oui, _yes it was. Forget her, _mon ami. Tu_ 'ave no chance wi't a classy _femme_ like dat." Remy said while nodding his head to where the beautiful girl had stood.

"Oh yeah, mate?" John laughed halfheartedly, glancing over head to the rail. Small flame had gone out on its own.

"O_ui_, she'd be more inclined to be swept off her feet by a dashing and ruggedly handsome outlaw, like _moi_." Remy flashed a smile that would make any woman fall to her knees, and laughed loudly. John scoffed playfully and roughly nudged his best friend.

"Well, mate. I'mm'a gonna go look fer some pretty _sheila_ to play with, so long, _mon ami._" John gave a mock salute to his Cajun friend and walked around the deck to the passageway that would lead him inside and to one of the many the stairs that connected the very different classes together.

The brown haired thief looked around the third class deck. Since it was only about an hour since departure, it was understandable that the deck containing the largest class on the ship was near empty. People would want to get their temporary living conditions together after all.

Looking down the third class deck, Remy noticed what seemed to be a father and his two daughters (the poor rarely married at such different ages like the richer did). The father was nothing much to look at. Poor clothing, short but muscled, and he had some serious sideburns. The two daughters (or what he assumed to be the daughters) were by far easier on the eyes.

The first and taller of the two was, in a word, a doll. Her dress was simple (though slightly stained at the bottom) and pink, and her hair was left down (AN/ Use your imagination for the clothing). A smile was plastered on her face as she talked to the second girl who didn't seem to care about what she was saying. It was she, the second, that caught the Cajun's full attention.

She was gorgeous, her pale, almost porcelain skin clearly showing her emerald green eyes and purple painted lips. Her hair was done up, unlike her friend's (sister?), into a loose bun, several strands of auburn hair falling down her neck. Around her face, however, the hair was white. Her dress, like most women in third class, was simple, but worn in such a way that she seemed _more_ then just some girl from a poor family. It was made from dark green fabric, matching her eyes almost perfectly, and it showed almost no skin.

Remy's eyes quickly picked up every small detail of the auburn haired girl, as they were trained to do. The thieving Cajun noted that not only did her dress cover as much skin as possible, the young girl had taken the extra measure to wear gloves. Remy found himself intrigued by the strange girl, and he wanted answers to the questions she brought into his mind.

A plan to obtain these answers formed, and the Cajun smiled, his red eyes showing through his disguise.

* * *

Wanda heard her father walk towards her, unaware of her presence on the crowded deck, and headed in the opposite direction. Erik Lehnsherr was not a man to cross when angry, and Wanda's stunt on the street had made him blow his top. Fearing discovery, Wanda carefully crawled over the rail of the first class deck, and climbed her way down to the second class. The poorer group of English Citizens comforted Wanda in a way that she could only roughly describe. They reminded her of home, in Romania with her mother and brother.

The majority of her people were poor, and at the same time happy.

Walking towards the rail, Wanda stared out to the sea and the beautiful sun set, a soft smile gracing her ruby lips. Looking down to the third class deck, Wanda noticed the two men from before, the red head and the man in the trench coat.

The second man barely caught her attention before her eyes locked onto the Australian. His hair was orange, almost blond, not red, and his skin was tanned lightly at his hands and face, but his eyes were truly captivating.

Wanda shivered slightly as she peered into the ice blue depths, and then he turned to her. Wanda fought hard to control the blood from rushing to her face, and to keep her appearance cold and collected, but she couldn't look away, and neither could he it seemed as the Australian's companion shook the red head by the shoulders strongly before somehow catching his shirt on fire. .

Luckily, Wanda had someone to save her from the staring contest she had found herself in. Pietro reached forward and pulled his sister from the railing, freeing her from her trance.

"What?" She snapped, not feeling the anger and annoyance that she was displaying.

"Father's looking for you. We're going to lunch soon and he wants you to be ready." Pietro said softly, looking her in the eyes. He was the only person she knew who would still do that. Against her better judgment, Wanda smiled at her brother, and the reaction was instantaneous. Pietro's eyes shone like before, when their mother was still alive, and he returned a smile of his own.

"Let's not keep father waiting then, shall we?" Pietro knew that it was his sister's way of joking, to act in a way that their father would be proud of, and he hooked her arm in the crook of is elbow. Together the twin siblings made their way to the buffet. Wanda knew that if she wanted to avoid a beating, she's have to act like a proper lady towards the men, and maybe women, her father would show her off to. Once again, Wanda looked down to the large diamond on her finger and thought of the man waiting for her in America.

All to soon they were in her father's presence, and Wanda forced all her emotions away from her facial expression. Hatred, annoyance, and fear for her father was sent away. They would return, of course, but not until she was out of her fathers hearing range. Then she would scream. Oh, would she scream.

"And this is my daughter. Wanda." Is if on cue, Wanda stepped forward to the old fat man and his mistress young enough to be his granddaughter. The girl in red waited as the old pervert looked her over, and Wanda noticed (and counted) the times his eyes strayed to her chest. His gaze made her feel dirty and wrong, and she knew that later that night she would have a bath, and scrub herself until her flesh bled.

looking over to the man's (who shall now be known as 'Grandpa') young girl, Wanda knew instantly that she was no older then thirteen, and she felt bile quickly rise in the back of her throat. Like her emotions, she pushed it down and continued to be her father's perfect daughter.

A hand on her wrist made her look to her left, and Wanda saw Pietro. She could tell by the look in her brother's eyes, that he'd seen the way 'Grandpa' looked at his sister, and Wanda could practically feel the annoyance and hate radiate off of him.

"Let it go, please. Father wouldn't appreciate my honor being restored at the harm of one of his 'old friends'." Wanda spoke quietly into her brother's ear, her hand on his shoulder, and felt him relax.

The two of them hurried to their father's side at the tea table. Wanda ignored what was being said around her, and barely spoke when spoken to. Her mind was blank, and she watched the ocean from her view in the large room surrounded by windows. The horizon, where the sky met the sea, was the exact shade of the boy's eyes from before.

* * *

FINALLY, an update! It's not my fault, the stupid computer constantly refused to save anything that i wrote so I kept on having to restart. It wasn't fair and I had started to get into habit of avoiding the computer at all costs.

Much, much, MUCH more Romy and Jonda next chapter (Swearsies) and maybe even an appearance of Lance or Piotr (or maybe both!) If you can't guess who Rogue's 'sister/friend' was (or if you didn't know that Rogue was there) then semi shame on you, I didn't do a good job on this.

Until next time, farewell! (I always wanted to say that)


	3. Chapter 3

"Titanic"

X-Men belong to marvel comics, Titanic belongs to um, paramount pictures. I own nothing. sadface. Oh, and by the way, there is a high chance of main character death. Double sadface.

Major ROMY in this chapter, like, really. And Wolverine gets very, very violent, hehe, poor Remy.

"Speech"

_"Thoughts"_

_**"Memories"**  
_

* * *

Night had fallen on the titanic, and very few people were out and about in the cold Atlantic air. The decks were quiet, except for the sound of footsteps pounding at a run. Someone was in a hurry, and they wore high heels.

Anna Marie Raven ran down the third class deck, her vision was clouded by tears and memories that didn't belong to her. She stumbled in her new shoes, her father wanted her to look like a new women when they boarded the Titanic, but her shoes were the last things on her mind. The back of the ship was top priority.

The frantic young girl shouldered past an elderly lady (earning her a long line of cusses) and kept running, she knew that she was close.

It had happened again, she had touched someone and now she knew _everything_. Flashes of memories appeared in her head, both hers, and the young man, who she now knew inside and out.

_**"Father, you'll get better, I promise." a boy of six spoke to the sick and dying man on his deathbed. Tears rolling down the brown haired boy's cheeks.**_

Rogue fought a wave of nausea as a part of the boy's past shot through her head.

_"Am I Edward? Edward Ellis?"_ Rogue pushed herself to the rail of the deck, and leaned out to the sea. Rogue dry heaved as she tried to sort out her memories and the ones of the boy she'd just absorbed.

_**"Remember Rogue. Remember **_**who_ you are, and forget who you're _not_. You are Anna Marie, no one else. Try again."_****_ A man spoke gruffly to the ten year old girl and held her hand. The young girl and her father both screamed as she absorbed his life._**

___"I'm not him. I'm Rogue. I'm Anna Marie Raven."_

**__****_"Lisa, I love you."_**

**__****_"I love you too." A girl with red hair sighed into his chest as they laid on the bed, the sheets rumpled and still warm._**

___"No, I'm Anna. An-Anna." _Tears ran down her face as she fought for control over her powers. Her curse.

**_"How about it, Lisa, the Titanic? We have tickets, we can go to America, start our own li-"_** The flashes were fading, and Rogue fought harder.

_**"Kitty, I'll race you to the car!"**_

_**"Like, you're so on!" The shorter sister laughed as the two of them ran across the grass.**_

_"Rogue, control yourself."_

_**"Here, Anna. Merry Christmas." A man with bushy sideburns smiled as he passed his daughter a box wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. The small six year old girl held up the black leather gloves for all to see.**_

_**"They're for protection. Now you can play tag with Kitty."  
**_

_"I'm Anna Marie."_ Rogue thought to herself as her powers subsided and all memories and knowledge of Edward Ellis faded from her mind. Legs still weak, she was relieved to see that she had made it to her destination. The stern of the ship_. _Still stumbling slightly, Rogue made her way to the rail, her tears drying as the ocean wind blew across her face. Looking down, she could see the water, swirling and bubbling after going through the propellers.

_"I don't want to go through that again. But I will, and I'll never be able to control it." _No more tears fell as Rogue hesitantly made up her mind.

_"It's the only way."_ Rogue bit back a laugh as she climbed up onto the rail. The wind pulled at her dress and loosened her hair from its bun. Grabbing the flag pole beside her to hold herself steady, Rogue could hear her pulse in her ears, and the dull throb in her chest was starting to hurt. She wasn't afraid, she was terrified.

"_Ce n'est pas quelque chose que vous voulez faire_!"**(1)** Rogue almost jumped when she heard a man's voice behind her, she couldn't understand him and he must have known it, because then he spoke in English.

"Pardon, but you don' wan' ta do dat." A heavy southern accent brought old memories to Rogue, and the southern belle fought back tears by replacing them with anger, anger that didn't belong.

"Well pardern meh, but who're you ta sah what Ah wanna do'r not." Rogue mentally cursed herself for letting her accent appear so strongly. She'd grown up in Mississippi while the rest of her family stayed in Chicago. For years she'd tried to cover it up, but it always escaped when she was angry. Rogue turned to see a tall, dark haired man wearing shades and a trench-coat.

"Well, if _tu_ were goin' ta do it, you would've. But you haven't, so Remy's guessing d'at you wont." The Cajun man leaned against the rail, too far away to suddenly grab her if she didn't listen to him.

"Yer destractin' meh, go away." Rogue tried to sound forceful, but failed. She could tell by the look on the man's face that he could hear the defeat in her voice.

"Not until you get down from d'at rail, I can't. _Je suis_ a part of this now,_ tu _jump, and I'll go in after you." The strange man lite a cigarette and stared at Rogue from behind dark glasses **(2)**

"Yer crazy." Rogue muttered, just loud enough for the strange man to hear.

"_Fou de toi_ **(3)**" The dark haired man leaned forward towards Rogue and lowered his shades, revealing red-on-black eyes. Rogue caught herself staring and quickly tried to snap herself out of it. It didn't work too well

_"His eyes are beautiful."_ The young girl thought before looking back to the water crashing below her.

"_Je suis_ Gambit."

* * *

He didn't feel right hypnotizing the young girl, but Remy felt that he had no choice. He knew that she would still jump. He didn't know why, and he didn't care. There was no honor or pride in taking your own life, and he wasn't going to let the poor girl take the coward's way out. He knew that she was stronger then that.

"_Je suis_ Gambit." Remy introduced himself by his 'codename', as John had put it. The Ragin' Cajun _never_ told the _filles_ his real name. To them, he was always known as Gambit.

"Rogue." Remy whispered her name again and again in his mind. He knew that it was a codename, like his, and he set himself another goal, one of many, centered around the stripped haired girl.

_"Number 13, find her real name."_ Remy smiled (and sexily, he knew) and stepped forward to 'Rogue', his hand held out to shake. The younger girl fell for his deviously minor plan and accepted his hand. Her grip was firm, despite her petite hands, and Remy found himself wanting to know what her skin felt like.

Fingers as sneaky as a, well, thief, the Cajun slipped up Rogues wrist and to the edge of her sleeve. He didn't notice her eyes widen in fright, nor did he hear her cries of protest as he ran his forefinger against the skin of her wrist, above the black leather glove and under her dress sleeve. The result was something of pure torture.

Remy could _feel_ his life leave him, and it was painful. It lasted only a second, But it nearly made him step backwards.

A dry sob followed by a scream snapped him out of his pain and confusion. Remy launched himself halfway over the rail and released his bo-staff in an attempt to save the southern belle from the deadly waters below, and it worked. Rogue grabbed onto the staff, he feet over open air, her hands weak and her arms shaking. Remy knew she wouldn't hold for long. Leaning further down, the Cajun managed to grab onto the girl's dress sleeve and, careful of the small sliver of exposed skin, pulled her up.

* * *

Rogue could feel his fingers slowly slide up her hand, and her eyes went wide.

"No, wait. Stop." Rogue pleaded, but Gambit didn't seem to hear her, and before she could grab his wrist and stop his wandering fingers in their fingerless gloves, they had already touched result was something of pure torture. Memories and knowledge rushed into her mind like water breaking through a dam.

_"His name's really Remy Entienne LeBeau, Le Diable Blanc to his family. His family are a thieves guild. He can manipulate energy. He's dangerous, and was running away from his family who kidnapped him from the hospital." _Rogue found herself knowing all these facts about a man she'd known for about five minutes. The cursed girl felt weak and a dry sob escaped from her throat. She hurt so badly. Knees buckling, Rogue felt herself fall from the ship's rail and she grabbed wildly at anything she could.

Her fingers curled around the last bar of the white painted rail, but another spasm of memories washed over her and she screamed.

**_"_Je _think d'at we'll get along jus' fine, _mon ami_." A man with a heavy Cajun accent spoke to a tall and lean redhead as he (the Cajun) slung his arm around the slightly shorter man's shoulders._**

Rogue 'awoke' and snatched at the air, clutching a metal pole. She jerked as her body found out the hard way that it was connected to her arms and hand, and she slid down a few inches. Her arms were shaking and her hands were slippery. Fingerless gloves grabbed the sleeve of her dress and pulled her up. Her mind didn't register the fact that she was a head lower then the deck's floor and that in order for anyone to be able to pull her up, they would have to be very strong. Another wave hit her.

**_Red on black eyes stared at a girl with white bangs and a green skirt running past him and a feeling of lust spread over his body.  
_**

_"Not him. I'm not Remy. I'm Rogue."_ The spasm ended quicker then ever, and Rogue felt complete exhaustion.

"Putain Je déteste cette merde" Rogue swore and then quickly covered her mouth, eyes wide. She didn't know how to speak french.

"Language, _chere_. Young _filles_ shouldn't speak such obscenities." Gambit joked lightly, but his head was still sore, and his movements shaky.

"Ya idiot! Don't touch meh evah again." Rogue snarled, completely confused. She didn't know she could absorb languages.

Remy looked over to the young, dangerous girl with awe. She was fingering a cheap copper ring in her hand, and it was _glowing._ The Cajun thief recognized the familiar pinkish purple hue right away, it was _his_.

"_Chere_, throw it!" Gambit bellowed, noticing how strong the charge was. Rogue looked down and froze in surprise and fear. The memories that Remy had given her were long gone, but all the knowledge she had absorbed wasn't. She knew the damage the small ring could now cause, but she was struck dumb.

_"I can absorb powers?"_

Remy acted quickly and snatched the glowing ring from the southern belle's hands before chucking it out to the sea. The small copper object flew farther then both mutants thought possible and dropped into the sea. Suddenly a deep rumble shook the deck and a burst of water exploded from the sea's surface, and Remy let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding. Any people watching would have easily thought that it was just a whale.

"What the hell was _d'at_?" Remy nearly exploded at Rogue and the small girl flinched. To anyone else, it would have been unnoticed, but Remy's eyes were trained to capture every detail.

"Ah told ya _not_ to touch meh. Maybeh listen next tihme, huh Remy!" Rogue snarled and Remy found himself to be at a loss of words.

"How do ya know my name, _chere_?"

"She knows everything about you, Bub. Yer name, yer age, even yer goddang birthday. Everythin' you know, now so does she. Never knew that included languages, though." A gruff voice from behind Remy made him jump. Turning around, Remy saw the man he assumed to be Rogue's father.

"Y'know, from up close those sideburns look even more like someone jus' decided to glue two horse brushes to yer face." Gambit taunted, ignoring Rogue for the moment. He always hated meeting the parents.

Quicker than he could move, Logan grabbed onto the Cajun's trench coat lapels, and yanked him up off the ground before slamming his back into the closest wall. With Remy's neck in his left hand (and feet off the ground) Wolverine unsheathed his metal claws and held them up to the thief's neck. Remy swallowed non-existent spit, trying to wet his dry mouth and throat.

"Logan, stop it. He was just tryin' ta help me." Rogue spoke clearly but Remy noticed that her tone was respectful. Logan looked at his daughter before looking back to the Cajun.

"Stay away from Anna, Bub, and I wont castrate you." The old man growled and let Remy drop to the ground. Gambit landed on his feet in a crouch, and flopped down on his rear to watch as the strange mutant walked his even stranger daughter away. Neither looked back.

"No promises there, _mon ami._"

* * *

Rogue walked into the small room that her family shared. The walls were white and the beds were metal. It was one room with two bunk beds. It sucked. Kitty was already asleep on the top bunk.

"Who was he, Rogue?" Wolverine's gruff voice cut through the silence, and Kitty rolled over in her sleep.

"Ah have no idea. He just came up to mah and introduced himself. I tried to shake his hand, and he pulled a stunt on me." Rogue spoke with indifference and tried hard to control her emotions. She knew that Logan could smell a lie.

"I'll accept that tonight, but tomorrow I want the truth."

"Merde."

"I heard that."

* * *

**(1)** "this is not something you want to do" It might not be completely correct, but that's what it basically means

**(2)** Yes they had sunglasses back then, but they were really crappy and, like, old. I'm just using these so that Remy can hide his eyes.

**(3)** A VERY special something if you can guess what it means. No translator 'cause it's cheating.


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter dedicated to AngelwithDirtythoughts and Cheerpandagal if you were expecting more I'm sorry... A Kiotr and Jonda chapter, more Romy next!... ENJOY OR I KILL PYRO! I own nothing.

* * *

Remy went over the name in his head. _Anna_. He gave a mischievous smirk and chuckled. How he would love to moan her name, and to hear this Anna call his. Allowing himself a moment of pure pleasure in imagination, Remy leaned against the white wall in thought before shaking his head to clear his mind. He needed sleep. Swinging open the door to his crappy boarding, Gambit was surprised to see his room mate laying awake on the bottom bunk. The crazy Australian was humming to himself and staring at nothing.

"Evenin' mate." John spoke from his place on the bed. He never moved and he still stared at nothing.

"So, did_ tu _follow de _fille_?" Remy asked, chucking his stuff from the top bunk. He needed room, after all.

"Yes, Oy did fer a matter of fact, but Oy lost 'er in a crowd. Oy'll tell'ya mate. If yer not first class, yer not goin' places. Don't matter, Oy'll just try again tomorrow." John said, an optimistic tone in his voice. The red haired man rearranged his pillow before laying back down with his hands behind his head. Remy chuckled again.

"Remy gives you _trés_ days before yer in de custody of de master of arms." Gambit joked and the two men fell asleep, each with a certain girl in their dreams.

* * *

Wanda picked at the gourmet breakfast in front of her. She was in the first class dining hall, her brother and father with her, eating breakfast with several other high class citizens, and she hated every minute of it. Everyone complained about everything, everyone insulted both their equals and the people that they believed to be lesser then them, and the entertainment was nothing but idle gossip and chatter. It annoyed the hell out of her, she wanted something better.

"Eat your peacock, dear." Erik spoke clearly, but Wanda could see the command in his eyes, and she smiled sweetly.

"I am afraid that I was less hungry then I thought. If you'll excuse me. Father, Mr. Creed." She spoke dryly and bowed her head to her father's aid, Victor Creed. He was hired to watch over Magneto's children, and to be his eyes if one of them misbehaved, but Victor found himself bonding with the slightly mentally unstable daughter. He protected her only when Pietro couldn't.

His golden eyes stared at Wanda, and he ran a hand through his long hair held back by a ribbon. It was a signal that he and Wanda had created. Wanda smiled and recognized what the signal meant. "You'll be fine, _he_ won't mind." Wanda turned from the table, glad to know that her father wouldn't freak about her unladylike behavior.

Once out of her father's sight, Wanda bolted for the outside decks. She needed to get the taste of the words that she had said out of her mouth. She was _not_ a lady, and despised having to act like one. Making sure that no one was looking, Wanda leaned over the solid rail and spat into the water. A small chuckle from behind made her turn around, eyes narrowed.

Blue eyes stared back at her and Wanda noticed who they belonged to. The orange haired man smiled and stepped towards her.

"Oy've gotta say, _sheila._That was just pathetic." He turned to lean against the low rail and she sneered at him. The boy continued. "Oy mean, if yer gonna spit, you should at least make it a good one." He turned and hawked up a large loogie before spitting it far into the water. Wanda looked at the boy with a raised eyebrow.

"That's it?" She asked, forgetting that she was supposed to act properly.

"Think that you could do better?" He challenged, and Wanda smirked, gladly accepting. Hawking like he had done, she pulled back, leaving her arms on the rail, and pushed her body close again, with a loud '_ptu'_. The red head nodded approvingly at the range.

"Whoa, noice one, _sheila._" He praised and Wanda sneered at him.

"My name's not Sheila." She snapped and the boy's face changed from cocky to apologetic.

"Sorry, _luv_. It's slang fer girl. Oy don't know your name, so Oy just, fell into bad habits." He chuckled nervously before sticking out his left hand to shake. "Name's John, or St. John Allerdyce if you wanna get technical." Wanda smiled slightly and accepted his hand.

"Wanda Maximoff." She stated, and John noticed the large diamond on her finger.

"That's some rock, mate." He nodded to the ring on her finger and Wanda snatched her hand away, a look of annoyance and hurt flashing across her face before being replaced by anger. Without another word, she shouldered past John, and tried to walk away.

"Hey, hey, hey. Miss Maximoff... Wanda." He caught up with her and placed his hand on her shoulder. Wanda turned around and absorbed his appearance for the first time. His clothes were crap. A hand made, button up, whitish shirt, and dark blue workers jeans held up by brown suspenders. He was slightly tanned, and that made his ice blue eyes stand out even further, and his orange hair was messy, once in a while a strand or two would get into his eyes and he'd subconsciously shake it away. He shouldn't even be seen with someone of her reputation and wealth. If she wanted, she knew that she could have had him arrested simple for annoying her. But it wasn't something she wanted. Glancing down to the object in his arms, Wanda noticed it to be what seemed to be a leather portfolio.

Wanda grabbed the leather portfolio quicker then John could react. He tried to grab it back, but Wanda turned her back to him as she opened it up, and he let his hands fall to his side, forcing a blush to stay away from his face.

Wanda looked at the first page, and immediately had to sit down. She found a lounge chair and stared. The first sheet of paper was a picture, but not like anything she'd seen before. It was like the image had been carefully burned onto the paper, resulting in said paper to appear slightly yellowed, and the image itself to look beautiful. It was of a woman, but her face was blank. Surrounding her was fire, but her body language didn't say fear, and after looking at the picture a little bit further, she noticed the fire was a man, or at least most of it was. It was a man made of fire. At the top of the paper was what seemed to be a title reading _Burning Desires._ Below on the bottom was John's name. It was a book poster.

"Did you do this?" Wanda looked up at him, glad that she managed to cover up her shaky voice. John nodded, and Wanda flipped through the rest of the portfolio. She could tell that John hadn't actually managed to write the story, only minor quotes and scenes, but everything that she read was beautiful.

"This is exquisite! I've never read anything like it." Wanda gushed quietly and she noticed John's smug look but ignored it. "Why haven't you actually wrote it already?" At her question, John sat down in the lounge chair beside her. He grinned but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Oy'm not ready. Oy need to get the main character down, but Oy don't know who Oy want her to be." Wanda nodded and leaned back in the chair, marveling at the beautiful front page.

"How did you get here? There's no way you had money for a ticket." Before she could think about what she was saying, it was out. Wanda's eyes widened and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks. "Oh shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that." She apologized and John simply waved it away.

"S'okay,_ luv_. My an' moy friend won two tick's to third class. Best day of moy liof, Oy tell ya." John grinned and Wanda's curiosity was triggered.

"Why was it the best day?"

"Cause Oy got te meet a right _sheila _loike you. Hey, you don't look loik you belong to that scene. Why don't ya meet me fer a real party with the rest of us 'scumbags. It'll be _fu-unn_" His grin grew and John wiggled his eyebrows as he made the last word have two syllables. Wanda knew what he was talking about immediately and sudden memories of her time in Romania flooded into her mind. She remembered the holidays, when even the poorest would head off into the town center and dance to the songs played by old and out of tune instruments It was always the thing she looked forward to when she was younger.

_'You're not there now. Now you're on a fancy ship with a ticket for first class. You've moved on from that life.' _With an eye roll, Wanda lightly touched his chest and sent a hex through her fingers. A blue light flashed and John fell backwards, breaking the wooden lounge chair.

"Cut the crap." Wanda sneered and walked off, leaving a shocked and pleasantly surprised pyromaniac on the ground. Glancing down on his shirt, John noticed the singed hole and smiled. In his opinion, mutant woman were always the best. This would be fun.

Wanda wandered around at the third class deck. Parents with their children. A young mother was with a son and daughter, and Wanda smiled. The two children fought, and the tiny girl, in her worn out brown dress, pushed her brother roughly to the side. Said brother fell down on his arse and started to bawl loudly, causing several onlookers to mutter to each other, a smile of adoration on their faces. Wanda half expected the young child to be smack for making such a scene, but the young mother just held up the sandy haired boy and, making sure that her daughter had a fist full of her mothers skirt, walked away to sooth her child.

Her grin disappeared from Wanda's face as she changed her mind. Spinning on her heel, she headed back to where she left the Australian author, muttering small curses under her breath once noticing the leather object still under her arm.

She found him where she left him, near the lounge chairs. He leaned against the ship's rail, silhouetted against the sunlight. Wanda shielded her eyes from the light as she walked up behind him. He knew she was there.

"Gonna take up moy offer, luv?"

"I think that I have to. As a way to repay you for me stealing your property." Wanda spoke clearly and John turned to face her. The Scarlet Witch handed him the portfolio and John accepted, his mind elsewhere. The Australian leaned against the white railing and Wanda held her wrist in her other hand.

"Do you love him?" John asked, nodding to the large diamond on her finger. Wanda played with the idea to lie, but forced the thought down.

"I've never met him." Her voice was cold and emotionless, but John could see the anger in her eyes.

"Do you want to." He knew the answer before the question was asked.

"No."

* * *

Rogue awoke to the sound of moving fabric, and opened her eyes to see her sister in one of her new dresses. It, surprisingly, wasn't pink. Instead it was a dark blue, and even had a collar of glass beads sewn in. It was something for special occasions, and Rogue's interest and curiosity had reached it's maximum.

"Isn't it, like, the _prettiest_ thing you've ever seen?" Kitty asked, once realizing that her sister was awake. The small valley girl turned around, making the fabric move like water and her collar shimmer in the white room's dim light. Rogue was impressed. "Daddy gave it to me for my birthday." Now she understood, and was in a bad mood before the day even started.

"Where is Logan? He wanted to know about last night." Kitty suddenly squealed, and Rogue was instantly reminded of when she had to work in the slaughter house.

"Last night! The _mysterious _boy. Daddy was, like, so upset that someone found out about, well, you know." Kitty trailed off guiltily. She knew how much her sister hated her mutation. "I woke up last night to him pacing and he told me everything, well like, everything he knew." kitty responded to her sister's confused look. She was only slightly worried about the unknown boy's welfare. The last man to show an interest in Anna ended up in a coma. Since then, there was no more Anna Marie, only Rogue. Kitty missed her sister.

The light hearted sister smiled before requesting help out of the new dress and into one of her more normal pieces. "I really, like, hope that I can get a reason to wear that, like, real soon." Kitty laughed and headed for the door wearing one of her older dresses. Rogue stared at her younger sibling as she walked through the white wall of their room. It was Katherine's mutation, and Rogue thought that she was lucky. Her sister could walk through solid objects instead of absorbing people's life force by touch. Rogue flopped back onto her bed and pulled the scratchy blanket over her head, her bad mood would last her the rest of the day.

Kitty Pryde walked along the third class deck. She had decided to wear a pretty yellow dress with a thick, worn leather belt. Her old shoes clicked dully on the polished wooden floor boards and Kitty smiled at the warm sun and cool breeze of the Atlantic. Walking around the boats, she noticed a woman and her two children, a son and daughter, leaning against one of the boats. They were facing a man who was kneeling on the ground, a large sketch book on one knee while he balanced on the other. One thing that Kitty had noticed about the man was that he was a giant. Kitty walked silently up behind the colossus of a human, and looked over his shoulder at the illustration he was working one.

One glance, and her breath was caught in her throat. It was so realistic, and it looked exactly like the family before her, it even had the stray strand of hair caught across the young daughter's neck by the wind, The shadow of wrinkles not even formed at the mother's eyes, and the small shine of the boy's buttons on his heavy jacket. And the man was only using charcol!

"It is very rude to look over an artist's shoulder v'ile he is v'erking." The giant man spoke softly while adding the finishing touches to his artwork, and Kitty could catch the obvious Russian accent. "But v'or you, miss. I'll forgive." He stood and turned to face her. The giant wore a very large, dark blue sailor's jacket that fit almost tightly, and thick, black worker's jeans that were loose. A giant belt held them up around his hips. Giving a small nod of his head to excuse himself for the moment, the giant stepped over to the small family and handed the mother the sketch he was working on. At his height, the daughter hid behind her mother's skirts, and the boy stared up in awe. Kitty saw the mother offer a small amount of money, no doubt the little that she could spare (and maybe a little more), but the Russian had outright refused with a smile. Kitty heard a small 'God bless' and the mother and her children were walking away, all three gushing over their new family picture. The impossibly tall man returned to Kitty, a smile clear on his face.

"Your drawing was, like, amazing. I've never seen anyone that good." Kitty said honestly, and she could have sworn the man before her had blushed.

"T'ank you, Miss." He was quiet, and Kitty felt herself blush at he stare.

"Do you, like, do this as a living?"

"V'ile I can. I'm Piotr, by the v'ay." He offered his hand to shake and Kitty accepted.

"Kitty." She smiled, hoping to draw the shy boy from his shell. "You know, you _are_, like, amazing. Do you make any money for your drawings?"

* * *

I know, it's too short, but I was tired, and sore (Seven hour horse back ride after not riding for almost a year) and I really wanted to get another chapter out. Next chapter, Piotr meets the partent! and sister! And Wanda PARTIES HARD!

in my opinion, Titanic is the perfect story for Kitty and Piotr. Think about it! He's an artist working for Magneto, she's an X-men, kinda like poorer class dude with higher class chick... Kitty has an on again off again relationship with Lance... kinda like an engagement... think about it, man...


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, I'm really sorry, but this is just a filler chapter. I needed to update it, and this was done in like, five minutes. Ummmm, Actual Jonda, Romy and the rest next chappie, I PROMISE THIS TIME!

* * *

Wanda walked back to her rooms, anxious about what would come. It was all planned so that her father wouldn't suspect anything. She'd have dinner with her family in first class, and then leave as soon as possible (ten o'clock). He said that he'd be waiting for her. Wanda stopped in her tracks as a thought flew into her head.

"_Where will he be waiting?" _Wanda shook her head to clear her mind of uncertain thoughts. She trusted John. _"This is cra- unbelievable', _Wanda refused to hear the word crazy, even in her own mind. '_I only just met the man, and already I trust him more then my own bother!'_ Wanda scoffed angrily and continued for her rooms. She had spent the whole day with John, just talking. She couldn't remember the last time she had a real conversation with someone not in a straight jacket or a lab coat.

A sneer had found its way to Wanda's face as she remembered the doctors. The bastards with the calm voices and the needles. She didn't notice the lights overhead flicker or the ice that had appeared on the hallway floor, she was too angry.

"Wanda, calm down." A voice from in front of her broke her concentration and the ice on the floor melted as the lights stopped flickering. Pietro stood halfway out of their room's doorway, a look of concern clear on his face. "You're-late-and-Dad's-not-happy-about-it-he-has-something-in-the-sitting-area-to-show-you." Pietro spoke quickly, a side affect of his mutation. Wanda nodded, hiding her emotions behind her mask like she was used to doing. Walking through the doorway to the sitting room, Wanda noticed an elaborately decorated box on one of the smaller couches. Erik stood behind said chair, already in his diner clothes, a sleek dark blue suit with gold and diamond buttons. It was five o'clock, a good hour until dinner.

"I had thought that tonight I will truly show the world my dear children." As he spoke he opened the wrapped package and pulled out a beautiful red dress. It was Romanian in design, and Wanda felt her heart pull at the brief memories of her childhood before being committed to the hell hole of an asylum. Stepping forward on numb legs, she lightly touched the fabric of the dress. It was heavy, and the top was a stiff corset, a deep scarlet in colour. Erik handed the dress to his daughter, and she nodded, taking the dress to her rooms to change, the maid following in order to offer any help that would surely be needed.

Help was definitely needed. The corset was small, and the maid needed leverage to pull the strings tight enough. It was a wonder that they didn't snap. Once on, Wanda found that, miraculously, the dress fit. Turning to the mirror, Wanda looked over her appearance with slight shock. She looked gorgeous. The corset top was low-cut, and showed much more skin then what she was accustomed too, but she liked it. The rest of the dress was much more complex. Her sleeves seemed to be off-the-shoulder scraps of cloth with no real purpose, and the actual dress was heavy fabric, a darker shade from the corset, sewn together so that it bunched slightly in several areas. Black beads were sewn into some sort of pattern that she couldn't see on the heavy fabric, and they made her dress shimmer with every movement, however small. The scarlet red of the dress made her skin glow white and seem flawless, and a small train dragged on the ground behind her.

"Come over here, deary, and we'll get some makeup on you." The maid said in her agonizingly soft voice, but Wanda complied anyway. It took nearly thirty minutes to get all the useless garbage on her face, and once she was finished, Wanda shooed the maid so that she could add her own jewelry.

Her favorite rings adorned her fingers, and a necklace with a silver Egyptian ankh rested on her chest along with a few other simpler chains. She didn't look the part of 'elegant duchess', but with her own familiar touches, she felt comfortable. The jewelry around her neck gave the illusion of modesty to her mostly uncovered chest. Letting out a heavy sigh to ready herself, Wanda exited her room to face her father and brother. She entered the sitting room, and her brother stared, though she couldn't blame him, she looked different with makeup. Her lips were a bright red, and her blue eyes shone from under her dark lashes and even more red for eyeshadow. She had even decided to match the Egyptian amulet on her chest with dark kohl around her eyes. Erik, however, barely glanced at his daughter before checking the pocket watch.

"Time to leave." He muttered, his tone indifferent. Pietro gave a last look at his, technically, younger sister before following his father out the door. Wanda let out a mildly annoyed huff and joined them down the hall.

* * *

John waited at the bottom of the grand staircase for her. Several people stared at him as they passed, a judging sneer on their faces. He didn't blame them, he wasn't one of them, he only looked the part. John had 'borrowed' a diner jacket for the night, he was going to return it, and it wasn't as if the guy had _five more_! John inspected the clothes for the umpteenth time that night. He had struck gold with his find, literally. The jacket had gold buttons, gold cuff-links, and even gold trimmings. He could sell the damn thing and buy a loft in New York, but he wasn't going to do that. He was going to return it.

Looking up to check the stairs for the temper-mental witch, he found that his minor search had been in vain, descending the stairs were two men, one younger, one obviously older, but they both had grey hair, strange. The men barely looked twice at John, and he mentally fingered them, taking comfort in what obviously couldn't have been done outside of his mind.

Turning his attention back to the amazingly sculptured staircase, he nearly felt his heart explode. There she was. She looked different then the Perfect Lady of First Class that she had tried to portray before. In the dress that she wore, and the makeup that covered her face, she seemed more like a goddess, an Egyptian by the look of it, completely untouchable, no matter how desirable she looked to the mere mortals who worshiped her.

She looked down to the man waiting by the stairs, once unruly hair slicked back, showing his icy eye off to the world. She was struck dump. Keeping her calm as to not cause a seen, Wanda stepped up to John, her eyes questioning, but her posture closed.

"What are you doing here?" She nearly hissed, disbelief clear in her eyes as her fingers twitched, ready to hex a certain Australian to next week. John just smirked. She was angry and confused. Not a smart combination.

"Posing as a rich ass first-class gentleman that you just had the _pleasure_ t' meet earlier t'day on deck." He whispered in her ear, and she ignored the shiver that had ran up and down her back. She wanted to stay angry.

"Where'd you get the jacket?"

"Long story short, luv. Borrow some bloke's clothes, and the bouncers 'ere never look twoice." He smirked and almost eased a smile out of the ice queen herself, when he heard someone's voice behind him.

"And what business do you have with Miss Maximoff?" John turned to see the older man who had descended the staircase just minutes before. His cold eyes cut through to John, and he could see the family resemblance almost instantly.

"Oy had th-" John began, a cut in his own tone, when he was cut off by a very quick mouthed Wanda.

"Uh, may I introduce Mr. Allerdyce. We met on deck and he intrigued me so that I just had to invite him to dinner with us. I'm sorry that I didn't remind you, Father, but your gift caught me unbalanced and it slipped my mind." John watched in amazement as the mask covered her entire being, from her attitude, to her quickly dulling eyes. The excuse came quickly through her mouth, and instantly it was believable. Erik Lehnsherr nodded at his daughter's words, and he turned to John.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr..." He trailed off.

"Allerdyce, sir." John filled in, not missing the cold look of recognization on Magneto's face. Both men shook hands, each with his own look of hate and distrust clear on his face.

"Well, should we continue to our seats?" Erik asked the company around him before heading to the dinning room, his back on his daughter and her new acquaintance.

"Shall Oy escort you, Miss?" John asked while offering his elbow for her to take, an overly pompous look on his face with his chin and eyebrows high and his eyes closed. Covering her mouth with her one hand to stifle a small giggle, she accepted his offered limb with her other arm. Together they walked behind Erik to their seats at dinner, passing the many members of first class on their way.

"That's Amara Aquilla, a half breed **(1)** Her mother was apparently a Brazilian, and her Father's some big-shot from Rome who claims that he and his daughter are royalty." Wanda introduced several others in an attempt to calm her nerves. She didn't expect John to even pay much attention.

The two of them followed Wanda's father to their seats and Wanda took the time to give a brief biography about the richest of the first class. John was surprised at how many were known mutant haters, and yet, they didn't know about Wanda and her obvious mutant powers, not that he knew much about them to begin with. Bringing his attention back to the first class snobs before him, John noticed how they stared. Beside him, Wanda walked on, her back straight and her eyes cold. John's fingers twitched for his pocket where he held his lighter. He remembered the stares.

"Here we are. Wanda, Mr. Allerdyce." Erik nodded as the small group of mutants arrived at a large table with a stainless white tablecloth. Already seated were three others families, all looking down at the newcomers as if they weren't even human. Wanda stepped forward to one of the sleek, black chairs, when John's hand intercepted her. With a goofy grin, he held out the chair for her. She looked at him with a glare that clearly read '_What are you up to?_ before sitting down.

"Thank you, Mr. Allerdyce." She responded dryly, and john pushed her chair closer to the table before seating himself beside her.

"So tell me, Mr. Allerdyce. How have you become acquainted with Miss Maximoff?" One of the elder woman asked, her tone dangerous, as if daring him to admit to his poverty.

**

* * *

**

(1) By halfbreed, she means from two different classes. Like first class and third class.


	6. Chapter 6

I own nothing

Wanda meets Rogue!

* * *

Wanda was about ready to murder someone. Dinner was about over, and idle chat had started. At first, she had hoped that the first class men and women would ignore the new money at the table (AKA St. John Allerdyce), but her hopes had been demolished when her brother, her own flesh and blood, started to ask questions with one goal in mind. Embarrassment.

"And how are the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Allerdyce. I hear they're quite good on this ship." Pietro asked with a polite tone, but Wanda could see how his eyes glowed. She wanted nothing more then to stand up and smack him from across the table. But that would make a scene.

Fortunately, John had a quick tongue. He had no problem admitting his poverty.

"The best Oy've seen in years, mate. Only seen 'bout three rats, and two of 'em were on the first class deck." John glared back at the silver haired speedster, hate hiding deep in his eyes. The chat continued as though John hadn't said anything at all, and finally, the men of the table stood from their seats and turned to their women. Wanda's father as their leader, he addressed the high class women of society.

"We thank you for your company tonight, ladies. But now we must retire to the smoke room." His voice was clipped and proper, his tone polite. Only Wanda saw him for what he really was, a monster. "John, would you like to join us?"

It was a joke, every word. The Australian wasn't welcome in the smoke room any more then at the dinner table. John knew that perfectly well, he was not going to fall victim to their cruelty.

"Oy'm 'fraid Oy must decline, gents. Gotta get ta moy own li' smoke room. S'cuse me, sheilas." John's face held a gentle smile as he stood from his seat, and Wanda lips tried to respond. She wouldn't let them, though she did blush as he lent down to kiss her hand.

"Must you leave so soon?" Wanda asked. It was an appropriate response to his departure, no one would think that anything would be strange. No one would suspect that she didn't want him to leave her with the shallow and brainless ladies of higher class society. Despite all appearances, she was nothing more then a peasant. Though her manners and status was lesser then the women around her, her mind and spirit was greater then any of theirs. They were boring, and lifeless, no matter how much money their husbands or lovers obtained. She despised them all.

"Hav'to, luv. All the gents 'er gone, and Oy don't think that the sheilas would loike a commoner loike me hangin' 'round with 'em." He spoke softly, so that their small conversation wouldn't be overheard by prying ears. Wanda thought over his words, and didn't notice as he leaned in closer to her, his blue eyes focused on her smooth skin. Before she realized what had happened, John had kissed her cheek.

"Meet me at that goiant clock, luv." He muttered into her ear so that only she could hear, and left the first class dinning room. Her skin tingled from where he kissed her bare flesh, and she glanced at her brother and father as they left for a smoke and brandy in a back room. Turning to the young lady beside her, Wanda excused herself politely, and followed the writer out of the large, crowded room. She didn't know what had possessed her to even think of accepting his offer to meet him anywhere. She should have seen him as below her, like her brother and father had done, but she couldn't. He resembled something too strong. He resembled freedom.

...

Wanda walked up to the grand staircase. The giant clock was at the top, and already, she could see a red head in an obviously expensive dinner suit. His back was turned to her, so he didn't noticed as she climbed the stairs, holding up a handful of her skirt as to not trip. As she reached the landing, he turned to face her, a large smile that screamed mischief plastered on his lips.

"You wanna go to a _real_ partay?"

* * *

Rogue stared at her reflection in the grimy, cracked mirror that hung in the white room. Her appearance was fine, her auburn hair was left down, just past her shoulders. Her green eyes looked back at her.

"Ah can't _believe_ that Ah'm actually doin' this." She muttered to herself as she smoothed out several wrinkles on her dark purple skirt. She was going to apologize to the Cajun for saving her life. Straightening the heavy black shawl that she had wrapped around her shoulders, Rogue headed out the door to search for a womanizing, thieving mutant.

"Ah must be outta mah mind." She sighed as she climbed the staircase that lead to the steerage deck. It was night, and very little people were out of their rooms. The life absorbing mutant allowed her mind to wander as she strolled down the deck, hoping to run into someone very familiar. Still, facts about Remy stayed in the back of her mind, and there they would stay. Some things that she learned would never be forgotten.

Without noticing, her feet had lead her to the stern of the ship, where she had met him. Her objective momentarily forgotten, Rogue stepped forwards to the ship's railing to look at the water. It was exactly as it was the night before, swirling and bubbling because of the propellers. Rogue shivered as she thought about what she was so close to achieving.

"_Tu_ still thinkin' of it,_ Chere_?" A familiar voice spoke smoothly from behind her and she nearly gave herself whiplash turning to face him.

"No, Ah jus' wanted ta look at the watah." Rogue murmured quietly. She was fiddling with her fingers, nervous over nothing. "Ah actuallah came ou' here ta thank yah. Fer savin' mah life, twice. An' fer your discretian." Rogue looking him in his eyes as she spoke, still wondering if they were just a trick of the light.

"T'was nothin', _Chere_." Gambit stepped forwards, and leaned against the rail beside her.

"Ah'm no dear of yers, swamp rat. And Ah just came out here ta give ya mah thanks. Last nigh was a giant mistake, don't think that mah life is so miserable that Ah-" Rogue's rant trailed off as she stared back out to the water.

"Remy don't. What Remy was really thinkin' was 'What had happened to this _belle femme_ ta make her think that jumpin' was her only option?"

* * *

"It was somethin' that will happen again. Ah can't stop it, or evan _control _it. When Ah touch someone, Ah absorb their laife force. Ah hurt people, constantly, and then Ah know _everythin'_ about them. It drives meh crazy." Tears threatened to spill as Rogue thought about her predicament. She could never really be with someone without killing them. Her life was a living Hell.

Remy stepped closer to the southern belle, and pulled her into her arms in a hug. Although her inner voice screamed for her to step away, Rogue ignored it and leaned her head against his chest, glad for some comfort.

"Je suis désolé pour vous." He spoke after a while, his head held high as he thought about the young girl next to him.

"Ah think that Ah should go. Mah sistah'll be waiting for meh." Rogue murmured, and pulled herself away, but Remy had a light hold of her forearm, and she turned to face him.

"Remy has a better idea."

* * *

It was loud and wild in the large 'ballroom' of the third and second classes. The floor was wooden instead of marble, and a band of instruments other then violins and a cello played in the center of the room. People dance, smoked, and drank everywhere without a second thought, and Wanda was instantly enchanted. Allowing John to lead her to a table, Wanda tried to take all the noise and chaos in at once. She loved the mayhem, and laughed as two men stumbled drunkenly into her, spilling beer on the skirt of her dress.

"Get outta here you lot. Piss off." John swore and threw both guys into a nearby table. It broke upon contact, and one of the drunks fell unconscious as the other stood up and brushed himself off as he reached for another beer.

"You okay, luv?" John asked Wanda, and she nodded. In the background, the band started up again, and John gave a sly smirk to the witch by his side. "C'mon. We're goin' dauncin'." He laughed as he pulled Wanda to the dance floor with his hand on her waist.

"What? No!. John, I can't." Wanda protested as she was dragged along, weaving around random couples.

"It's easy, just get real close." John's arm wrapped tightly around her waist, and Wanda found herself against him, stomach to stomach. If she were to breathe any deeper, her breasts would be pressed against his chest.

"I-I can't do this. I don't know how." Wanda stammered as she fought to keep her face from matching her title. She had never been that close to another human being before.

"Oy don't either, luv. Jus' follow along, kay?" John smiled, and his blue eyes danced with delight. Wanda nodded, and the two followed the crowd of dancers. Laughing and moving to the music, John stepped away from Wanda to give her a twirl, and she tripped on her dress's long train. Falling backwards, Wanda was ready for impact to the hard, wooded floor, but impact never came. John had acted quickly, and had her held up with each hand on her upper and lower back. To anyone dancing around them, the minor accident looked like an elegant dip. John helped Wanda to stand with a nervous laugh while his dance partner giggled.

"Oy! Firebug!" Someone called from the crowd of people, and John recognized the voice, and accent, immediantly.

"Remy!" He called back, and in an instant, the Cajun thief appeared, and by his side, a pretty young girl with striped bangs.

* * *

Okay, mostly another filler chapter, but give me a break! there were some cute moments in there!


	7. Chapter 7

I own NOTHING!

* * *

Rogue found herself being lead over to the center of the dance floor by a Cajun's hand on her waist. The red haired man they were making a beeline for smiled widely at her and Remy. He was obviously a friend. The young woman by his side however, didn't hold a look of recognization when she glanced at Remy.

"Remy wants _tu_ to meet _son ami_, Johnny." Remy muttered into Rogue's ear as they approached the two dancers. Johnny seemed relatively normal, so Rogue turned her attention to his partner. She wasn't from third class, that much Rogue knew in an instant. Her posture was perfect, and her face was closed off from the world. She was trained to be proper, and nothing more then an ornament to some man's arm.

"Anna, Johnny, Johnny's date." Remy did the introductions quickly, earning himself two glares equal in intensity from the two girls, and a maniacal smile from the Australian.

"I'm NOT his date!"

"Don't call me Anna." Both girl's snarled, and looked at each other in minor surprise.

"Wanda Maximoff." Wanda smirked, and held out her hand.

"Rogue Darkholme." Their hands shook, and Wanda reached behind her as a man with a tray full of beers walked by. Grabbing two, the gothic beauty offered one to her new-found friend.

"Thank ya, darlin." Rogue grabbed the glass, and made a small, silent toast to Wanda. The two girls down their drinks, much to the surprise of their boys. Wanda felt the booze hit her hard, and she knew that her drink was a little bit stronger than beer, but she mind shrugged the thought off and she finished her drink.

"What, ya think a first class gal can't drink?" Rogue responded to the astounded look on Remy's face, and Wanda laughed. It was some of the most fun the sheltered girl had ever had. The dancing, singing, and drinking lifted her spirits. Another song was played, this one fast and wild, and Wanda grabbed Rogue's gloved hand lightly, the universal sign of 'come dance with me'.

"Lets go!" Rogue laughed with Wanda, and the two girls rushed to the middle of the dance floor.

Remy and John watched in wonder and amusement as their dates twirled and twisted together. Several people around them moved out of the way to allow the two girls to freely dance.

"It's a wonder what a little bit of alcohol and music can do, eh mate?" John laughed, and pulled Remy into a dance as well. The two thieves stifled their laughter and straightened their smiles as they tangoed down towards their dates, earning small giggles from the girls, and bouts of chuckles and cat-calls from the drunken men around them.

* * *

The sound of skin against skin echoed in the first class suite. Wanda stood still as her cheek burned where her father had slapped her. He was livid, and Wanda's clenched fists shook as she fought to control her mutation. It wouldn't help her now to lose control of her anger.

"What made you think that something like that would be acceptable?" Wanda looked past her father's furious expression to Pietro. Her brother stood behind their dad, closer to the door. His gaze avoided hers.

"Look at me, Wanda." Erik grabbed his daughter's chin roughly and forced her to face him. Wanda bit back the snarl that threatened to appear on her face, but she couldn't cover the anger that seeped through in her voice, nor could she suppress the surge of power that rushed from her, causing the lights to flicker.

"I see that you have my own brother spying on me. How typical." Erik's lips tightened to a thin line at his daughter's words. Still holding her chin still, Magneto slapped his daughter once again. Wanda's head whipped to the side, the lights above her head exploded in a shower of glass, and Magneto stepped back as though nothing had happened. Tears pricked her eyes, threatening to fall, but Wanda willed them back and fought the urge to press her palm to her stinging cheek. She refused to let her father to see her in a state of weakness. Keeping her posture, she stared coldly back at her father.

"He is my son before he'll be your brother. My needs of him will come long before your wishes." Erik's tone was cold and uncaring as he stood by Pietro and the door. "And you will stay in here until I have need of you, while you think about your place in my life. Your marriage will ensure your family's place in this world, Wanda." Eric exited the room quietly, never looking back to the broken girl that was his daughter. The large oak door of the first class suite closed shut with a quick snap, and Wanda allowed her legs to give way from under her, and her tears to fall freely.

* * *

Kitty glanced nervously at her sister as the southern belle slept. She had returned to their room late (and obviously drunk) speaking French with a strange accent. Kitty knew that it was the Cajun from two nights before, that once again, skin on skin contact had been made. And from the way that Rogue would touch her lips, Kitty could guess what had happened. Just the thought would make her squeal with glee. She knew her sister well, and she knew that Rogue talked in her sleep. The small valley girl had stayed up almost the whole night listening to the white banged girl murmur about a certain Cajun boy with strange eyes and a strong accent, and as a result, had woken up with the daylight almost fading.

Kitty's smile grew slightly larger as she thought of another boy with a strong accent. Piotr had showed her around the ship, and they shared their life stories. Or rather, she told him almost everything she knew, and he told her what little he was willing to share.

**(total flashback (1))**

_Kitty smiles warmly at the large man walking beside her on the third class deck. The strong sent of sea water is everywhere, and she can feel her already high spirits lighten. _

_"So v'hy are you going to America, Kitten?" Piotr asks, his accent strong, and Kitty blushes at the nickname 'Kitten'._

_"Well, we used to like, live in Amercia, right? But my brother... his mutation is so much worse than Anna's or mine. I mean, his is actually visible." Kitty trails off slowly and looks out to the sea. __Piotr smiled knowingly, and timidly held Kitty's hand in his own._

_"I haf a sister, Illyana. She's the sveetest little thing. As var as I know, no mutant blood in her. But she vas never afraid of me vhen I would change." Looking around to make sure that no one was near, Piotr's skin changes. Once soft, white skin, quickly turns into metallic plates, covering his body from under his clothes. Kitty gasps in surprise as the metal embodies his hands. They become hard and cold, but they pulse with life. _

_In her minor shock, Kitty's mutation spasms, and Piotr's hands pass through empty air, _through_ Kitty__. Piotr's skin changes back, becoming soft and warm again, and he smiles._

_"Sveet little Kitten" He whispers, and his smile is warm, Kitty giggles._

**(end flashback)**

Kitty giggled again, earning her a strange look from Logan as the grouchy father ate his cold dinner.

"Do I _want_ to know?" His gruff voice was still laced with tiredness. The older man was still exhausted from his work in Europe. At his voice, the image of her sister popped into her head, and the thought made Kitty's smile grow larger.

"Just, like, thinking about Rogue and her beau. You know, that Cajun ain't that bad. Not from how Rogue acts after seeing him that is. Kitty ran up to kiss her father on his hairy cheek and hurried out the door. Piotr was going to take her out to the lower decks that night, where the second class passengers of this ship partied and danced.

Logan stared at his youngest daughter as she bolted out the white, steel door, a grin as large as her face glowing.

"At least Gumbo takes her out at regular hours." Logan muttered to the empty room, thinking of two certain foreigners.

* * *

Remy awoke with a groan and a strong need for a smoke. Flashes of memories of last night danced behind his eyes, making his head swim. A smile came to his lips as he remembered the two gothic _filles_ dancing on the dance floor, and when he had tried to give his southern belle a goodnight kiss. He hadn't missed, and her mutation had made the small contact of skin unbearably painful, but in the Cajun's opinion, it was worth it.

In the bunk above, Remy heard his Australian roomie awake with a low moan. The Cajun could practically see the Aussie holding his head in pain cause by what was sure to be a massive hangover.

"Learn how to hold your liquor, _mon ami. _'Til keep t'ose hammers away from your 'ead.

"Oh shaddup." John nearly moaned, trying and failing to keep a large smile from his lips. The Australian had seen a side of Wanda Maximoff which was probably thought to be long dead. But it was alive, very much alive. And John knew that he would be the one to draw it out more often.

Glancing to the worn out watch on his wrist (stolen three years ago from a VERY drunk mayor), John decided to act quickly. Ignoring the strong pounding against the inside of his head, John jumped down from his bunk, surprising his Cajun friend.

_"C'est quoi ce bordel, l'homme!" _Remy exclaimed loudly in surprise.

"Sorry mate, gotta run. Oy have an idea." John muttered while stumbling over to the white, steel door. Nearly tripping over the untied laces of his work boots, John bolted through the door and down the hall, leaving Remy behind, thoroughly confused.

John ran up the many stairs to the first class decks. The sun was shining brightly outside, and John realized with a cringe that it was well past noon, and that the members of first class either be getting prepared for dinner, or wandering about around the first class decks. The Aussie prayed that a certain dark haired vixen would be a part of the latter, he was really not looking forward to sneaking into a high-class banquet for a second time.

_"I was not questioning you, Father. A proper woman knows not to doubt the words of the man in charge of her life." _At the sound of her voice, John's heart nearly stopped. Wanda was walking with several men, two of which had silver hair. Wanda herself was being escorted by her brother, the twins walking steps behind their father, who was walking ahead with some other big shots from first class.

John looked around, and to his pleasure, he found a jacket and top hat resting on a lounge chair. Grabbing both, the Australian firebug was quick to pull the black jacket on to hide his peasant clothing, and the top hat to hide his fire red hair.

Quickening his pace, John made it to Wanda's shoulder as her father turned the corner with his associates. The Scarlet Witch turned her head, and her eyes widened as she saw his face. Her brother beside her noticed, and glared at Pyro with full intensity and instant dislike.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?" Wanda hissed, and Pietro turned his glare to her at her choice of language.

"Oy needed t' see ya."

"Oh-no-you-don't-buster-Wanda-Dad's-gonna-bust-a-gut-if-you-go-anywhere-" Pietro was cut off as both Wanda's and John's hand slapped over his mouth.

"An' you deal woth that every day?" John asked the black haired beauty, eyebrows raised.

"Trust me, it's a lot easier than you think to tune him out." Wanda answered with an eyeroll before turning her attention to her now muted brother. "Give me _one_ minute, okay? I'll be back before Dad notices I'm gone. And if he does notice... improvise." Wanda gave her twin a glare and the silver haired quickster nodded quickly.

"Good." John didn't wait any longer after that, and pulled Wanda away. Finding an empty room, the two barreled in, and John was quick to pin Wanda between him and the wall.

"Oy needed t' see ya again." John stated, his eyes serious. The gothic woman tried to push him away, but Pyro could see that her heart wasn't in her actions, and he kept her still.

"John, I can't do this. I'm getting married, I'm saving my family." Wanda fidgeted with the large diamond on her finger, until John grabbed her hand. It was ice cold against his.

"Is that your choice, or your father's? Wanda-" He bit back a smirk as he felt her shiver as he said her name. "Yer no picnic, you're a spoyl'd brat even! But, even after... even after all that... Oy can see the foier in you. An' Oy know, if you stay with yer father... that foier Oy love about you, it's gonna go out, an then you'll be no different than a first-class man's mindless bitch." It was harsh, he knew, and he definitely deserved the slap that followed his little speech, but Wanda's lips against his made it worth it.

Her arms were quick to wrap around his neck, and John placed his around her corseted waist, pulling her body closer to his. His kisses were aggressive, his lips quickly bruising hers, and she dug her fingers deep into his hair, pulling ever so slightly.

* * *

**(1)**Sorry, but i was SOOO gonna add this to the last chappie, but... i forgot. Sorry.

Okay, FINALLY an update! I know, disappointingly slow, but... patience is a virtue!

... hands up if you had to re-read the entire story?


	8. Chapter 8

After her talk with John, Wanda returned to her father on the deck, praying that he wouldn't notice her swollen lips, or the new light in her eyes. She had almost given up on the Australian, and she knew that he could see it.

_"Meet me at the bow of the ship after dinner."_ The firebug had made her promise, and left her with a kiss. Now Wanda was floating on cloud nine, a smile on her red lips. She was in love, and to hell with the man waiting for her. Looking down at the large diamond ring on her finger, Wanda sneered. In a fluid movement, the ring was off, in her hand, and then it was flying into the pacific.

Wanda's smile broadened as she watched the diamond reflect the light of the sun, before it plopped into the water. The Scarlet Witch was free from all bonds.

"Where have you been?" Eric questioned, disapprovingly. His spat near hours before seemingly forgotten in the presence of the men of equal social status. Wanda smiled at him, as any respectful daughter should.

"I'm afraid I was distracted by the coming sunset, I'm sorry to keep you waiting father." She spoke, her voice light and airy. It was easier than ever to act content. Her father accepted her excuse, and turned to his associates. Wanda wasn't bothered, she had decided. She would never see the man again.

The sun was setting, meeting with the vast, blue ocean. It was enchanting, watching the sky turn from a dark, deep plum purple, to orange and yellow at the horizon, and then merging with the green and blue ocean. It was a massive rainbow in rich, deep colours that mesmerized Wanda as she waited for the man who had thawed out and stolen her heart. As her mind wandered about life beyond the ship, a pair of worn hands wrapped around her waist, and Wanda turned to see the familiar orange hair and blue eyes that she loved.

"'Ello luv. Beaut'ful out 'here. An' the sun's nice lookin' too." John joked, and Wanda turned around in his arms to kiss him. It took the Australian by surprise, though the surprise itself was pleasant, and when they both pulled away for air, John looked at the dark haired beauty questionably.

"When the ship docks, I'm leaving with you." She stated confidently, not caring if he disagreed. She's get off with him anyway. But instead of objecting, the red head smiled.

"This is crazy."

"That's what makes it so fun." Wanda smirked, and John noticed the light in her eyes. It was the old Wanda, who she was before her father had gotten to her. Joyfully, John leaned down and kissed Wanda softly once more. He felt her smile against his lips, and he knew what she was truly happy.

"I want you to make a picture of me the like your novel cover." She murmured as John held her, and the Australian looked down at her. Honestly, the idea filled him with dangerous and thrilling ideas, ideas he knew were off limits.

"Father and Pietro are going to be spending most of the night in the smoking room with the other high class gentlemen. The suite will be empty." She spoke into Pyro's shoulder as he held her, and John felt his excitement fill his heart. He'd finally have an acceptable cover for his novel. After all, who was more lovely than the woman in his arms? **(1)**

* * *

Wanda stood before John, and the firebug was astounded at the lack of shyness the girl portrayed. The blue eyed girl stood in a gossamer gown of red fabric so translucent that John could see every curve of her body. Every dip, every lovely mound, and even the dark shadow between her legs. The Australian was thankful for the large sheet of paper in his lap.

The Scarlet Witch locked her blue eyes onto his, and she smirked coyly, an action that made John groan uncomfortably. Just sitting there, watching the pale skinned beauty was torture.

"Okay... well... Just..." John gave up talking, his mind not able to take it's attention off the beauty before him long enough for him to talk. Silently, Pyro stood up to grab a hold of Wanda's hands. The fire manipulator dragged the young woman to where he wanted her to stand in the main room of her suite, until she was standing right in front of the expensive couch.

"Stand here, and follow my lead." He told her with a smirk, and felt his chest burn with pride as he saw the trust in his eyes. Standing behind her, John rested his hands nimbly on her stomach, holding her back to his chest, and kissed her lips with a deep passion. He bit lightly on her lower lip, begging for entrance, and Wanda obliged, teasing his tongue timidly with her own. Her hands quickly found themselves touching him, one at his cheek, caressing him, the other holding his hands to her. The lit candles in the room danced with glee, and soon were skating across the almost forgotten paper as the two mutants embraced each other. It was an innocent kiss, but it was filled with dark promises. When Wanda felt a hardness press into her outer thigh, she pressed John back, embarrassed.

"I-I'm sorry." She mumbled, her face as red as her name. John only grinned his insane grin.

"Don't be, luv. Oy thin' you got me moi greatest pictah yet." John exclaimed gleefully as he stepped over to examine the burned piece of paper left on the ground. It showed the image of Wanda as she had been while kissing John. But the man behind her wasn't John. It was a man of pure fire, his touch caressing her but not burning. Wanda blushed furiously as she noticed how erotic the picture looked, and how it reflected perfectly how she felt only moments beforehand.

The Scarlet Witch looked down at the garment she wore with sudden modestly.

"I've got to change out of this." She muttered and moments later she was in her room, leaving John to add the finishing touches on his artwork.

When Wanda returned, she was in something that made John's head spin. A red corset-like top that showed glimpses of her stomach, and a pair of tight black pants that were tucked into black, knee high worker's boots. What she wore was indecent, and immoral, but damn, was it sexy.

"Pietro's pants. They're a little bit small on me, and they ended up fitting like this." Wanda motioned to the way the pants hugged her curves, and John gulped. She looked dangerous in clothes like that, and he liked it. Hell, he LOVED it.

"The last thing I need is to feel so free while wearing something so constricting. But if you want me to change into something more lady-like, I will."

John shook his head, and walked up to her, taking her hands in his own.

"You look perfect." He leaned into to give a chaste kiss, when someone knocked on the door. John felt his heart leap into his throat.

_"Miss Maximoff. You're father wishes for you to come down to the dining area for a word."_ Wanda recognized the muffled voice instantly. It was Victor, her father's body guard.

"what are we gonna do?" John whispered, and Wanda thought quickly.

"Come with me." She murmured back, and dragged John to the back door of the suite. The two mutants ran through the door, and closed it shut just as Sabretooth opened the front door.

"My pictah!" John protested, but he knew that it was a lost cause. It would be suicide to get it back. The couple walked down the ship's hallway, hand in hand. Suddenly, Wanda snorted with laughter.

"That was too close." She chuckled. Behind them, a door slammed open. Wanda and John spun around to see a nearly livid Victor Creed, staring at the two in disbelief.

"RUN!"

* * *

**(1)** I would just like to say. I nearly gagged at the mushyness of this one part, and the next one, and the one after that. And pretty much the entire story so you had BETTER enjoy it! .


	9. Chapter 9

Hehehe. Only two chappies left! please don't hate me! And i'm sorry to say that anyone who agrees with tmdeathwishraven, will be very much upset. BUT here's a hint. I'm only gonna kill off ONE of the three boys. So guess which ones ;)

* * *

John pulled Wanda along, both mutants running for their lives, and laughing like lunatics about it. Behind them, Victor chased, huffing and swearing as he tried to keep up with the younger generation. The ribbon that had once kept his hair neat and proper was long gone, and now his mane of hair flew behind him. He looked like something wild and dangerous, and Wanda reminded herself that he probably was.

"Quick quick quick! Down here." Wanda pulled John towards the servants stair that lead to the first class kitchens of the ship, Sabretooth right behind them. They were in hot water, and they knew it.

Risking a quick glance behind them, the two mutants never noticed the man pushing a tea trolley, and the three of them collided. Fortunately, neither John or Wanda lost their footing. They even managed to create some sort of obstacle for their pursuer.

"Sorry!" Wanda called behind her as they continued to run, no destination in mind.

Behind them, they heard the resulting crash, as Victor stumbled into the fallen tea kettles, and the small cry of the waiter as he was pushed out of the way. Magneto's henchman might have been furious, but Pyro was having the time of his life. The couple ran from the first class to the third, squeezing by to avoid a collision with someone in their path (Wanda didn't miss the strange stares she received on account of her clothing) Sabretooth, however, wasn't as courteous. The hairy man shoved people out of his way in his mad rush to obtain his boss's daughter and her red headed lover.

Down another hallway, and then through an employee's only corridor. Wanda leaned against John, panting heavily. John looked down at her, and started giggling. It caught onto Wanda, and soon, both mutants were holding onto each other for support, as their stomachs ached from their hysterical bouts of laughter. Wanda felt a small bubble of stress press against her stomach. She knew what would happen if Victor caught her and brought them to her father. She would be beaten to an inch of her life... and John would be killed outright.

"Did'ya see that bloke's face! Whe-when he opened the door?" John giggled madly, and Wanda shrieked with glee in response.

"You'd think he wos some koind o' hitman."

"I think he was." Wanda snorted in an unimpressed way, and the two of them glanced out of the small, circular window of the servant's quarters.

"Oh Shoite." John cursed. Sabretooth was back, as red faced as ever. At first the hairy giant didn't notice the red headed man staring at him from behind the window, but when he did, he loud out a frustrated roar and charged them.

"C'mon!" Wanda shrieked again, a wide smile on her face, and John stared in appreciation of the loving madness he saw. Being crazy wasn't always a bad thing, as long as you could share it with someone. Hands held together, the two of them ran once more, the raging Sabretooth right behind them. With a smile of relief, Wanda pointed ahead of her with her free hand.

"There's the elevator!" Wanda and John made a mad dash to the wooden and metal contraption, both begging for the bell-hop to wait for them. A rich couple had reached it first, but Wanda pulled them back out of the way. The stress bubble was building, but she fought to hide it.

Already a dull throb was appearing at her temples. She knew what the consequence would be if her stress remained, her powers would go haywire. And on a ship in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, that was a death wish. She needed to calm down, she needed to _settle _down. But most of all, she needed to get away from Victor.

"We need it more than you do." She sniped at them, and turned to the shocked employee beside her. "Go down!" The young man obeyed, and the elevator gate shut as the three of them descended just as Victor arrived with a snarl.

"Bye-bye." Wanda mocked, and gave an rude hand gesture that made John nearly choke in surprise. Above their heads, Victor slammed his fist against the wooden gate.

* * *

The elevator let them off at the third-class rooms. Wanda instantly noticed the stark contrast between the creamy, white wooden walls of the first class, and the flaking paint on the metal corridors. Everything about her new surroundings was depressing.

"Home sweet home." John spoke up with a nervous chuckle, and rubbed the back of his neck. Wanda smiled despite her pounding headache, and hurried inside the two-man room.

Against one wall were the bunk beds, across from them were the boy's luggage; a worn duffel bag and a suitcase that had seen better days. Wanda stepped to her right to sit on the bottom bunk. The mattress was hard, and she felt a spring dig into her rear. The dingy room reminded her of home, in a weird, depressing way.

Glancing back at John, Wanda found the crazy Australian grinning madly at her, making her blush. With a huff, Wanda rolled her eyes in humor. The pounding in her head worsened, but she paid it no mind. She was free from her father, for the moment. He wouldn't look for her right away. Leaning back, Wanda rested against the pyromaniac, hoping for peace. John seemed to read her thoughts, and ran his fingers through her dark hair, relaxing them both.

Wanda jolted awake at a knock on the steel door, and beside (and underneath) her, John muttered something incoherent. The being on the other side of the door knocked again, more forcefully, and John gave a wide yawn.

"Probebly Remy, wonderin' t'see if he can come in. Told 'im you were goin' to be 'ere with us." John explained, his accent thick with his drowsiness. Wanda yawned, hiding a smile behind the back of her hand, and John winked at her.

"'Old yer horses, Rems. Oy'm comin'." John called, and turned the door handle.

A loud bang sounded as the door swung open on it's hinges and metal slammed against metal as the door collided with the white painted wall. Wanda screamed in horror and outrage as Victor held John up by his neck, his nails digging into the man's skin, making droplets of blood run down. Wanda watched on, petrified with shock (never fear) as Victor roared, and threw the Australian against the metal wall.

John collapsed in the pile of luggage, and in three steps, the large, hairy man stepped over, and slammed his booted foot into the ribs of the near unconscious John. Wanda's headache pounded furiously, and she clutched at her temples.

"Little piece of _shit_" Sabretooth growled, and reached down to grab a handful of the fire-orange hair to pull the man up by. John's face contorted in pain, and Victor leaned in to mutter in the man's ear.

"Never _mess_ with me, Flame-boy."**(1)** John groaned again, and winced in preparation for the closed fist that was ready to slam into his face.

Suddenly, Wanda screamed. Standing up from the bed, the woman's rose on end with blue electricity, her eyes bluish white with power.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM!" She screamed, and the entire cabin shook. No, the entire _ship_ shook. The lights flickered as the ship's body trembled as though it had collided with something gigantic, throwing the three being in and out of darkness.

Eyes wide, Wanda raised her hand at Victor, and a bolt of sizzling hot energy blasted into his chest, knocking him out cold. Still light-headed and nauseous, John stood up on shaky legs and walked towards the Scarlet Witch.

Her body was cold and clammy but her hands were hot as he held her, trying to steady both himself and Wanda. She was shaking.

"I-I-I've never let-t out that much power bef-f-fore." She trembled, and John held her tighter.

"Let's go, he'll be roit piss'd when he wakes." John murmured in her ear, his voice soothing, and Wanda nodded.

"We need to go on deck. I n-need to know what I've done." Hand placed on her waist, John led her out, leaving the unconscious and smoking Victor behind.

Wanda stared in shock and horror as she saw the ice on the deck.

...

Huge, solid blocks and chips of ice covered the entire deck of the ship, smaller shavings made piles of snow. Everywhere, the third and second class were either playing with the ice, or marveling over it. Wanda bit her lip in guilt as she looked out the side of the ship, leaning far out over the rail. In the distance, behind the ship and barely seen was a giant iceburg, and she was willing to bet her father's entire fortune that it wasn't there twenty minutes ago, before she had unleashed her power. Behind her, John held her tight, knowing of her inner turmoil.

"This is bad." He spoke gravely, and Wanda nodded, in shock.

"We have to go back. Tell father."

John didn't disagree with her. He didn't know what she was hoping to accomplish, but he did know one thing. The ship was going down.

* * *

Eric waited in the parlor suite with his son and the constable of the ship. The man of law was old, and graying, but Magneto could tell that he was mean, and that he was a man who would agree with him instantly, no matter the evidence.

"She'll be around shorty, I have no doubt." Magneto spoke curtly, never stopping from examining the piece of artwork left behind. The drawing, if one could call it that, was magnificent, no doubt about it. It was what the drawing was of that made his blood boil red. The imagery of his own daughter acting like a common whore to some peasant was revolting, the thought that his own flesh and blood would throw his wishes away for some gutter rat was insulting, and what was worse was that the picture had made his son go into hysterics.

"when-I-see-that-son-of-a-bitch-I-swear-I'll-ring-his-neck-Who-said-that-he-could-touch-my-sister?Who-let-him-in-here?I-swear-that-Wanda-didn't-she's-a-good-girl-no-interest-in-boys-when-I-see-him-he's-going-over-board-no-question-about-it!" Both the constable and Eric tuned the boy out, and they waited.

Magneto wasn't happy. He had sent Victor to go and grab both beings at once, and drag them to him with whatever force need be. Surely the savage man could accomplish that.

The greying man had felt the shudder of the ship clearly, and though many of the first-class occupants had different theories for why it happened, Eric was confident that he knew the real reason. His daughter had lost control.

Wanda's powers were fragile, to say it bluntly. They weren't triggered by emotions, like so many other mutants, but they weren't fully under her control either. The Scarlet Witch's powers were under the influence of the state of her mind, meaning that if Wanda was calm, and happy, she would find that her powers would be very weak, almost nothing. In comparison, if she were distressed, or in any way upset, one would find that she could very well break the world in two with just the thought.

And so, Eric was careful to keep his daughter in a nearly constant state of minor frustration. A state of teenage angst. She would have her powers, but if she were to use them at will, she would be powerless against him. Magneto smirked, a cold glint in his eyes as the door knocked timidly.

"Right on time, then." Eric spoke gravely as the door swung open and two figures emerged. The old man was surprised to see that Victor was not with the the young adult man, and his daughter, but he didn't let it show. It was better that Wanda had come willingly anyway. When Magneto saw what his daughter was wearing, he almost gave into the impulse to murder her right then. She looked like worthless whore, forced to work like a man. But Eric controlled his temper, for the moment, and tried to listen to what she thought she had to say.

"Father. Something bad has happened." Wanda spoke evenly, as if she believed that her own father didn't know what she had done. Magneto held back a sneer as the Autralian man placed his hand on the black haired woman's waist.

"Indeed it has. Constable, arrest him." Without waiting for another word, the fat man standing in the corner walked towards the two lovers, a pair of handcuffs in his hands.

"Don't fight now, Lad. Only make it worse." The man of the law grunted as John nudged Wanda away.

"John? Wait, what are you arresting him for?" Wanda demanded, beyond confused. Pryo stood his ground and crossed his arms over his chest, but he made sure that Wanda was with her brother.

"Kidnapping." Eric spoke up, and the Scarlet Witch glared at him.

"He didn't kidnap me I ran _away_." She insisted, and the constable hesitated.

"Pay her no mind. She spent the last ten years in an asylum." At Magneto's excuse, the constable nodded, and continued to reach for John's arms.

"Back off, ya bloody wa-" John never finished his sentence as a fat fist the size of a ham slammed into his stomach. The constable might have been big, but he was fast. The pyromaniac flopped to the floor, winded. The old man wasted no time in slapping the cuffs on him. Magneto ignored the scene as he demanded his daughter's attention.

"He will be taken down to the bowls of the ship, and when we reach America, he'll be sent to jail while we head for New York. You'll never see him again." Wanda looked at her father, her eyes full of hate. The sound of the door opening brought her back to the present, and she noticed the constable dragging John off into the hall.

"John! Wait! He didn't do anything wrong." Wanda argued strongly, and was about to run after the Australian when two pairs of arms held her back. "LET ME GO!" She snarled at her father and brother.

"Don't worry 'bout me, Luv. Oy'll be alright. Tell Remy-" He was cut off again as the fat man dragging him down the hall slammed his fist across the back of his head. Wanda trembled with hurt and anger as she stood, and Pietro moved to shut the door after him as he left the suite.

"Wanda." Eric called his daughter, and she turned her head to face him.

**SLAP **Wanda felt the familiar sting of flesh against flesh, and tears prickled her eyes. She choked back a sob, and Magneto sneered.

"So pathetic." He muttered scathingly. Wanda bit her lip in anger, and lashed out with words of her own. The entire reason she came back was worded into one sentence.

"The ship will sink."

"So it will, Wanda. The ship _will_ sink, but not before you and I, the members of first class, are transported to safety. Leaving the gutter-rats like your little boyfriend to drown." Magneto responded with pure malice in his voice, and Wanda nearly flinched at the power of his words.

"Then I'll drown with him." She murmured, almost unheard. But her father _did_ her her, and his rage was obvious. Eric's face blotched red with rage as he grabbed his daughter by her upper arm, and threw her back into the desk behind her. She collided to the wooden furniture with enough force to bruise her hip, and make her legs nearly collapse from under her. He was strong. Wanda stared at him cautiously while she held herself up with the support of the desk, waiting to see what he would do. But the older man just let out a shuddering breath to compose himself before he spoke.

"I'm done fighting with you, Wanda. You want to be a whore for that trash, be my guest. You'll die on this ship with him." Magneto gave his final words to his daughter, and left her to retire to his study.

Wanda didn't dare breath unless he came back, and when she was certain that he wasn't about to open his door and attack her, she ran.

* * *

Down the stairs she bolted, nearly breaking her ankle and falling. People stared and whispered at her as she ran past, but she couldn't care less, she had something important to do.

At first she thought she wouldn't remember where his room was, or that the Cajun wouldn't be there, but as she knocked on the white, metal door, she found that she had nothing to worry about. The brown haired man from the party below deck looked down at her with bleary eyes, she had obviously just woken him up. Remy stared at her clothing longer than necessary, before shaking his head and speaking.

"John's not 'ere, _mon chere._ T'ough Remy's sure 'e'd appreciated yer offer." The Cajun joked, and Wanda fought the urge to punch him.

"I know he's not here. I, or well, we, need your help." She was desperate and scared, and she hated how it showed. Remy looked at her with serious curiosity, and it encouraged her to continue.

"He was arrested, and taken somewhere in the lower parts of the ship. And I accidentally made the ship start sinking so we really don't have much time or he'll _drown_!" Wanda spoke quickly, her hysterics taking a hold of her, and Remy held onto her shoulder's tightly, trying to calm her down.

"Did _tu_ say t'at you broke t'e boat?" Remy looked at her doubtfully, and Wanda growled with frustration, making the lights flicker and Remy's hands burn where he touched her.

"It was an ice burg. I made one appear, _by accident_, and now the ship's sinking." She didn't know how she could say that the Titanic would sink, but she knew. She could feel it in her heart that she had made a big mistake, and that many lives would pay for it.

"_D'accord. _So _la petite fille foiré grand temps._" Remy muttered to himself. As he spoke, and Wanda fretted, a pair of clothed arms wrapped around his stomach from behind him, and a very familiar girl looked out at the Scarlet Witch.

"What's goin' on?" Rogue questioned, and Wanda arched her eyebrow at what she was seeing. The white banged girl only snorted.

"So I see you've gotten used to being his date." Wanda joked, her surprise at seeing the southern belle distracting her from their current crisis.

"Don' worry sug. We were on'y cuddlin." Rogue smirked, and Remy looked at both of them in surprise.

"_Désolé_ for interruptin' yer chat, but _nous_ sor' o' got a situation." Remy dead-panned and bit her lip again.

"John got arrested and the ship's sinking." Wanda explained at Rogue's confused look.

"_Elle_ broke t'e boat."

"Can we ignore that for the moment? John's in danger, and I need your help." Wanda looked up at the red on black eyes of Remy, and the Cajun grinned.

"_Enfin Rémy obtient pour sauverle cul de John_."

_meanwhile_

John glared at the man before him with pure hate. The constable paid him no mind. The pyromaniac was handcuffed so that his arms were basically chained to what seemed to be a water pipeline. He wasn't going anywhere. The room they stuck him in was white (of course), with only three bits of furniture. A desk and chair, and a cabinet that held what looked to be _hundreds_ of small, shiny keys. The constable sat at the desk (and John was amused to hear the small wooden chair groan under his weight), rolling a bullet down the smooth surface. The desk was at an angle, correction, the room was at an angle, making the small bullet always roll down towards the constable. The ship was sinking, the bow dipping further into the water.

"You know, I do believe this ship may sink." The constable grinned evilly, and rolled the bullet down once more. John glowered at him, and the fat man stood up, and loaded the small bullet into the revolver the man kept safe in his fat hand.

"Mr. Lehnsherr, and Mr. Maximoff, wished for me to give you something." the fat man slammed his chubby fist into John's stomach again, and the nineteen year old curled up on himself, his stomach burning in protest against any movement. The constable turned and left the room without another word, leaving the Australian to drown, when the time came.

"This is so not good."

* * *

**(1)** hahahahha revenge from Madness!


	10. Chapter 10

_11:00 pm_

Rogue walked down the deserted corridors of the ship, arms holding her body tight. The southern belle was nervous, and for good reason. She had snuck out of the small room her family shared to meet with a Cajun mutant thief. If only Logan could see her now.

The white banged girl smirked as she imagined the total freak out she had narrowly avoided. She was lucky Logan was a deep sleeper. It had taken a lot of skill to escape her room after hours, and she had jumped in fright when the large steel door had slammed shut behind her, she was sure she had been caught. But she was lucky.

Acknowledging her surroundings, Rogue quickened her pace. She didn't like being in the bowls of the ship alone. The white walls and many turns and corners made her uneasy. It was too easy to imagine some sort of mass murderer hiding just behind the next turn, waiting to pounce. The gothic teen wasn't afraid to use her mutation to save her life, but she really didn't want some serial killer/rapist in her head. No thank you.

Rogue walked further down the hall, when she heard something that made her pulse run. Footsteps. Heavy footsteps.

"Get a'hold of yerself gal. All this talk about serial killahs got ya jumpeh." Rogue muttered to herself angrily. The footsteps behind her probably belonged to some employee on his lunch break, or Logan noticed she was gone and came after her. "Oh shit." Rogue swore, deciding that an angry Logan was by far worse than a crazy killer.

Determined to remain calm, the southern belle forced her pace to remain slow and even. She didn't want whoever was following her to think that she was nervous, be it an employee, a mass murderer, or (heaven forbid) her father.

Steadily, the footsteps grew louder, and Rogue found her palms sweating in her gloves. She refused to admit that she was scared, but she would say that she was unnerved.

_"Oh just let the tension end already."_ She snapped to herself, and then screamed bloody murder as a hand fell onto her shoulder.

"Calm down, _Chere_. Remy won'd hurt you." Rogue whirled around and came face to face (or rather, face to chest. The Cajun was a lot taller than her) with Remy LeBeau, the very thief she was looking for, not that she'd admit it.

"Gawd Remy. Ya almost gave meh a hart attack." The auburn haired girl exclaimed in her southern twang. Her accent was always strong when around the Cajun.

_"Remy ne voulais pas vous effrayer"_

"Ya didn't scareh meh." Rogue insisted, and flinched inwardly when she realized that she had understood what the red eyed man had said.

_"Damn Cajun's still in my head."_ The young girl was bothered by that. Normally a person's memories and knowledge were gone by the first day, but three had gone by, and though Remy's memories had finally disappeared, she still understood French.

"Fine then _Chere_, Remy's sorry that _tu_ missed _ton copain_ so much that _tu_ screamed for joy when Remy touched you." Remy smirked, and gave his most dashing smile at the clearly unimpressed girl before him.

"Fihne, ya got meh. Ah was scahred." Rogue dead-panned, and took much pleasure in at the sight of the ego-deflated Cajun before her.

"You wound me, _Chere_. Remy will have _tu_ admit that _tu m'aimes_."

"Dream on, Swamp rat." The young girl smirked at Gambit's performance, and and he smiled at her.

"_Quoi_ are _tu_ doin' out 'ere anyway? Isn't it pas'd _votre_ bed'ime?" Remy gave a mischievous grin to the southern belle, and Rogue grimace at his choice of words.

"Ah was bored, so Ah came out here."

"Are _tu _sure d'at d'e _belle fille_ didn' jus' want to see _moi_?" Remy's grin grew larger as he noticed the faint blush on the girl's porcelain skin.

"Ah'm pretty sure. But since yer here we're gonna go and do somethin'." Her tone was final, and the Cajun smirked, much to Rogue's annoyance.

"_Quoi _did _tu_ 'ave in mind, _Chere_?"

_11:35 pm_

"Eight"

"_Neuf_"'

"Ten"

"_Connerie_"

"Dammit!" Rogue curses as the Cajun caught her cheat. Finding nothing to do, the two mutants retired to Remy's room, and they had started to play cards. Half an hour, and seven card games later, they found themselves playing 'Bullshit'. Rogue had discovered that it was almost always foolish lying to the thief, and that it was definitely impossible to catch him cheating.

"Damn Cajun's good at his job." The girl with stripped hair cursed the man before her, and Remy fought the urge to laugh at her.

"D'at's not d'e only t'ing Remy's good at, _Chere_." Remy winked suggestively, making Rogue blush and curse the Cajun further.

Remy praised himself as he watched the interesting shade of pink appear on the goth's cheeks. She hadn't fallen for his many charms (not that it gave him any reason to stop), and the Cajun had quickly found that the only way to fluster the untouchable girl, was to be blunt. A charming smile or suggestive wink only ended in an unimpressed look or an amused smirk, but couple that with some sort of sexual innuendo, and you had a blushing, stammering, flustered Rogue. Remy had found her weakness, and he was planning on exploiting it to his uses.

"Knock it off, Swamp rat." Rogue snarled, trying desperately to control the blush on her face. With her complexion, any redness in her face showed up like a glowing beacon. It was embarrassing.

"Fin' fin. So, are _nous_ gonna s'art 'strip bullshit' or w'at?" Remy questioned, a wide grin plastered on his face, eyebrows wriggling suggestively. Rogue was about to groan in frustration (the boy just would not _quite!_) when there was a tremendous shudder.

The entire room shook as though the boat was on 'vibrate', and Rogue quickly picked up her glass of water to stop it from falling to the floor. On the wooden crate they were using for a table, the cards were slowly being pushed to the ground, and the beds behind them shook against the wall. Rogue and Remy stood up quickly, bewildered.

"What's goin' on?" The girl with stripped hair questioned no one in particular. Then, just as quickly as it started, the tremors stopped.

"Remy don' d'ink d'at was good." Gambit spoke, his tone unsure. Beside him, Rogue nodded in agreement.

"Maybe Remy should keep his _Chere_ safe, _non_?" Remy grinned mischievously, and wrapped his arms around the young girl's waist. Holding in a sigh of defeat, and a groan of minor anguish, Rogue came up with a plan to unsettle the ever composed mutant.

"Ah think yer right, Remy." At the innocent and vulnerable tone of her voice, Remy looked down at the girl in his arms. Rogue hid her smirk well as she fought to look like the small, delicate woman that she wasn't, and amazingly, the Cajun was falling for it. The prince of thieves was being scammed by an amateur. Just as Gambit was about to lean down and do something that he would really regret, a frantic knocking came from the door, and Rogue let out a sigh of relief. That had been far too close, but she wasn't done with the boy yet. She wanted to make him sweat, as he had done to her.

Remy walked forwards to answer the door, leaving Rogue in the small room to her own devices. As the Cajun opened the door, the young goth could see the figure of what seemed to be a man in work clothes. It was then that the southern belle thought of a plan, a (horribly degrading and slightly disturbing) plan to fluster the ever composed Cajun.

Walking up silently, Rogue nearly hesitated to go through with her scheme. But with a scolding word to herself, she continued on, and wrapped her arms around Remy's chest and stomach, placing herself firmly against his back. Looking over his shoulder (or... alongside it, she was really very much shorter than the Cajun) Rogue fought off the blush that appeared on her face.

It seemed that the man who had knocked on the door wasn't a man at all, but was in fact, Wanda in men's clothing.

Ignoring the burning sensation on her cheeks, Rogue continued on with her plans of embarrassment (though she no longer knew who the target was, her or Remy) and spoke up in what she thought was a suggestive and coy tone.

What's goin' on?" Wanda's comment made the blush on Rogue's face brighten, but it was more from anger than from embarrassment.

"Don' worry, sug. We were on'y cuddlin'." Rogue bit back a smirk at Wanda's unimpressed expression, and turned her attention back to what the two mutants were saying before, realization and worry seeping into her very being as their situation presented itself.

"_Enfin Rémy obtient pour sauverle cul de John_." Remy spoke with a dark grin, as though John being arrested was some sort of laughable antic, but Rogue could see clearly through his illusion. The Cajun was worried about the Australian firebug.

"Where'd they take 'im?" Rogue spoke up urgently to Wanda, and felt instant sympathy to the blue blood.

"In the lower levels, that much I'm sure of. But we have to hurry, the ship's going fast, and we don't have much time." She spoke quickly, and Rogue stepped forwards to take the unstable girl's hands in her own. The dark haired witch was biting her lip so badly it was threatening to draw blood.

"We'll find him. Ah promise." Rogue tried to be reassuring, not an easy feat, but miraculously, Wanda smiled.

"Thank you..." She leaned over to look into the room behind Remy.

"There wasn't an unconscious guy in there when you guys got in, was there?"

_12:00 am_

Wanda, Rogue, and Remy raced through the halls of the ship, trying not to knock down any person in their way. Word of the ship's sinking was spreading, and White Star employees were passing life preservers to the passengers. Those of second and third class (those who they say, at least) wore them thankfully. Wanda knew that it would not be the same for the first class passengers.

_"Probably set them aside and asked for another brandy while they waited for it all to pass over."_ The black haired woman thought savagely, a grimace clear on her face.

Up a fleet of stairs the company ran, deciding that it would be best to search for John if they started at the top and worked their way down. Wanda was desperately trying to keep the despair and hopelessness from her heart, but it was a losing battle. It would be impossible to find the pyromaniac without a hint of his whereabouts. Taking a corner, the three mutants found a hitch in their plan:

The upper floors were being barricaded. A steel gate stood, effectively blocking off the top of the staircase, and a horde of passengers were desperately trying to get through. Men were at the front, shaking the chain-link like fence and reaching out from behind their newly found cage to grab at the ship's employees. Woman and children stood at the rear of the mob, where the sounds of angry shouts and swears were replaced with the cries of upset children and the hushes of their fearful mothers. Wand watched the madness with wide eyes. She hadn't seen riots like that since her childhood, when the men and woman were screaming and pointing at _her_.

An arm around her waist, pulling her back, brought her from her musings, and Wanda looked over to see Remy keeping her from getting caught up in the crowd. With her short hair and clothing, she could easily be mistaken for a young boy, and in the passenger's eyes, another strong arm. Wanda nodded and stepped back with her newly found friends.

"What now?" Rogue questioned, her voice louder than normal to be heard over the screams. Wanda shrugged her shoulders and Remy held his chin between his fingers in thought.

"_Nous_ fin' anoder way up." Remy decided, defeated, and the three of them left the screaming and outraged passengers. Down the halls they flew, Rogue and Wanda trying to keep up with the Cajun's pace. He was a lot faster than them, with much more stamina, and it wasn't easy for the southern belle to run in a dress.

"C'mon! D'ere's anoder staircase!" Remy yelled behind him, and grabbed Rogue's hand to keep her up to his pace, Wanda running beside him. The three of them ran up the stairs two at a time, and were greatly dismayed to see yet another crowd of blocked off passengers. This time, however, the mob was angrier, and a man on the other side of the fence, in white clothing was holding a gun.

"Stand back! If you would listen to me, you'd know that if you went back down the main stairwell, there will be another way up." The ship employee stated, the gun in his hand down by his leg, a mere reminder, not a threat. An unfaced man spoke up at his instructions.

"We just came down from there! There was a damn fence like this one. Let out out, for Pete's sake! There are women and children down here!" The Irishman bellowed, and in the silence after his speech the sounds of crying were heard. The man with the gun looked down, thinking to himself for a while. Nobody spoke.

"Alright. Alright. Bring the women and children to the front, and the woman and children _only_. They will be allowed to go through to the boats first." The man spoke clearly, and motioned to the two men by his side to unlock the gate. The instant a heavy _click_ was heard, the men at the front of the gate exploded with rage and energy. They pushed back the White Star employees and pulled at the gate, a mass of flailing limbs and heads. Due to their struggle, the gate would not budge, and the man with the gun took the chance to raise his weapon at the mob before him, a mad look in his eyes.

Remy had seen enough, and looked back to see something he could use in his situation. Behind them, right before the long staircase, was a long, wooden bench, and a small table with a glass vase for decoration. Motioning to Wanda, the red eyed mutant lead her away from the mob and the distracted Rogue.

"Can _tu_ do somet'in' about d'is?" He patted the bench, nailed strongly to the floor. He knew a little of the young woman's powers from what John had told him, and he believed that she was just the tool he was looking for.

Nodding, a smirk on her face, Wanda concentrated on every nail and bolt that held the wooden piece of furniture together. She wanted them to rise up, and release their hold on the bench. Remy watched in amazement as the long nails in the floor removed themselves from the wood, still standing tall. When Wanda was sure that everything was how she wanted it, she released her power on the nails and bolts and the iron tools Remy watched with fascination suddenly dropped to the side.

The long bench groaned softly, and then fell apart before the two mutant's eyes, now nothing more than a pile of lumber and planks of wood. Giving a dazzling smile, Remy thanked the Scarlet Witch

_"absolument incroyable."_ Remy spoke his praise, and Wanda gave him a look that clearly stated 'I know'. Leaning down, Remy grabbed as many pieces of lumber as he could, and motioned for Wanda to do the same. Back at the mob, Rogue watched what the two were doing and, foreseeing what was about to happened next, ushered the mob to either side of the hallway, leaving a small lane for Remy to walk down.

"Move aside! Move aside." Rogue pulled and pushed the angry and confused passengers along, as Remy charged one of the many pieces of lumber in his arms. He needed to be careful with his charge. Enough that it would weaken the gate before him, but not enough that it would harm the people around him, or start a fire. Finding that his charge was exactly where he wanted it, Remy through the glowing plank of wood at the barricade, and with a satisfied smirk, found that his attack had dented the cage.

The man behind the fence watched with horror and amazement as Remy worked, but quickly came to his senses, and raised the gun in his hand. Aiming for Gambit's chest, the startled employee pulled the trigger. The resulting bang had shocked many passengers into screaming, and Remy dropped the bundle of ammo. He felt numb.

Patting his entire body, starting at his chest, the red eyed mutant searched for a bullet wound. Not finding any on his person, he looked round to see if it had missed him and hit the wall instead. That was when he noticed Wanda.

Her hands were held out before her, a look of pure concentration of her face, and a eerie blue glow about her fingers. Remy looked forwards in bewilderment to where she was staring, and felt his heart nearly stop. Inches before his nose, a bullet was suspended in mid air, rolling slightly. Beside him, Wanda let out a low sigh, and the bullet instantly dropped.

All eyes were now on the three mutants, and the crowd started muttering. Wanda looked around at the amazed and shocked faces and wondered if she was in more danger now, for being an outed mutant, than John was, left to drown. Reading herself for an attack from angry mutant haters, Wanda was surprised at what happened next. Several of the men and woman who had stood at the sides of the hall bent down, and picked up the pieces of the broken bench Remy had dropped, and offered them to the red eyed man. Swallowing in an attempt to moisten his now dry throat, Remy accepted the pieces of lumber gratefully, and allowed a low charge to flow to the red wood. Looking around at the determined and eager faces, he tossed the now glowing bomb at the fence. With a loud and satisfying bang, the gate blew out, and the men were able to bent the metal back, allowing their freedom. With a cry of victory, the previously caged passengers didn't wait to run out from the stairs like rats from a ship.

"Thank you!" A middle-aged woman, holding the hands of two children. Her face was red from all the excitement, and her blue eyes were cloudy with tears. Wanda watched on, her heart heavy. She knew of the number of boats on board. There were hardly enough for half the passengers, and she knew for a fact that the boats would be loaded first-class first, and not at full capacity, so that the rich folk would be comfortable while they saved themselves. Many would die.

The mother and her children hurried along to the boats, leaving the three mutants to themselves.

"We should hurreh." Rogue broke the silence awkwardly, and Remy nodded at her. Together, they followed the hoard of passengers, dread heavy in their hearts.

_12:35_

Kitty bonked her head on the steel frame of the bed above her as the heavy steel door was swung open, the lights were switched on, and an unfamiliar voice barked out orders that she barely heard in her state of sleepiness. Suddenly, a heavy, white thing was thrown on top of her, and she shrieked in surprise. The moment she had, the door slammed shut once more, and Kitty was left very confused. Looking around, she noticed her father sitting up in his bed, pulling on his heavy boots, his face grim.

"Like, what's going on?" Kitty asked, afraid to know. Logan ignored her as he tightened the laces of his boots.

"Daddy?" The valley girl had never addressed her father as that since she was six, preferring to call him by his given name. As she spoke, Logan's hands trembled, and wiped away something damp that had collected at his eyes. Now fear clutched at Kitty's heart. Her father never cried.

"The ship's sinking. The man that came in here was giving up life jackets." Despite his distress, Logan's voice was steady as he stood up and grabbed his large, leather jacket from his bed. Feeling her own eyes quickly water at the ill news, Kitty jumped up from the bed, hitting her head once more, this time ignored. Running forwards, the brunnete wrapped her arms around her father's waist, and tried to hold off the tears. Logan always got uncomfortable when she or Rogue cried. To her surprise, Logan placed his large hands around her upper back in a comforting gesture.

"Don' worry, Half-pint." He growled, using her old nickname. "They'll be placing you girls in the boats first, and another ship will be waiting to pick ya up." His gruff tone soothed Kitty, keeping her head together.

"What about you?" She looked up at her father, and to her amazement, he smiled.

"The water won't hurt me." He spoke of his mutation, and Kitty realized that he was right. Due to his immediate healing, her father could swim all the way to New York, and probably would, in the end. Regardless, Kitty still worried. There were many things in the water.

Logan seemed to notice her concern, and sighed once more.

"I take it your sister went off with the Cajun?" He changed the topic, and Kitty noticed for the first time that her sister wasn't with them. Panic grasped at her once more.

"Will she, like, get to the boats?" Kitty bit her lip in worry, and Logan grabbed one of the three life jackets on her bed.

"Put this on." He demanded, ignoring her question. He was certain that Anna would reach the boats on time. Pulling on his own life preserver, Logan was about to instruct the still Kitty to do the same when someone knocked on the door. Confusion clear on her face, Kitty opened the door, and gasped in surprise.

In the doorway stood a giant. His head was bowed respectably, but his eyes were filled with concern.

"Kitty." He spoke strongly, and the valley girl looked up at the young but large boy.

"One sec, Bub." Logan pulled his daughter to him, and kissed her gently on the forehead, ignoring the bashful boy before him. Quickly, he spoke to Kitty.

"I'm not going to ask when or where you met him, he's a big guy so he can be of use. Go with him to the boats, and get him to flag down a spot for you." Kitty looked up at her father in confusion. "Get on a boat, and be safe."

"But what about Pio-" Her protests were quickly cut off.

"I will make sure he gets on a boat, somehow." Logan spoke quickly. He knew just how rebellious his daughters could get, and he trusted the colossal man. "I have a lot of money saved up, and it wont keep when I go swimming." He smirked at his little joke, but Kitty didn't laugh.

"When you get to New York, and she _will_ get to New York." For the first time, Logan turned his attention to the large man still in the doorway, and the stranger nodded, allowing the Canadian to continue. "Wait for me by the docks. I will be a few days, weeks even. But I will be there." He stared into his daughter's eyes, and frowned at the tears threatening to fall. "When you see Rogue, tell her the same." Logan stared at his youngest daughter in silence for a long time before he continued. "I... You two mean the world to me, so stay the Hell in it." He growled, and Kitty knew that it was Logan for 'I love you'. Smiling sadly, Kitty gave one last hug to her father, and hurried out the door to Piotr, a life jacket in her arms.

"I love you, Daddy!" The valley girl called, and was pulled down the halls at a run. According to the metal giant, the tremors were nearly an hour ago. The ship didn't have much time left.

_12:55_

Wanda stopped running at the grand staircase, massaging a stitch in her side. Her breathing was harsh, and she felt that she was about to pass out. For the last twenty minutes, they had been sprinting down the halls non-stop. They were looking for the constable that had arrested John, in the hopes that they could get some information out of him. Of that they were doubtful. Noticing that Wanda was no longer following them, Remy and Rogue stopped as well.

"C'mon, Sug. We gotta keep on." Rogue stood beside Wanda as the black haired witch leaned over, her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breathe.

"I- I'm... trying." Wanda gasped. She had never done much physical activity as a child (and for the past ten years she considered herself lucky if she was allowed to walk down the hall of the asylum for a shower) and could only run for so long.

Now Remy was by her side, looking down at her with anxiety. The ship was sinking, and although it seemed like they had time, enough to save John and catch a boat, they knew that it was only an illusion. The ship had only an hour or two left afloat, then, it would succumb to the sea, regardless of people on it or not.

Wanda was about to straighten up, and tell Rogue and Remy to go on, that it would be quicker that way, when someone called her out.

"Miss Maximoff! Wanda!" A familiar voice rang out, drawing attention to the three mutants, and the Scarlet Witch whirled around, to come face to face with Victor Creed. Wanda's body tensed. The last time she had seen her father's henchman, he had tried to take her and John to her father by force. Now, however, he didn't seem menacing, only concerned. With a twinge of guilt, Wanda noticed that his head was stained with dried blood, causing several members of first class to sneer and mutter in his direction.

"Wanda." Victor reached Wanda and her friends, and Remy played with a pack of cards he had swiped in one of the richer suites on the way over. He didn't like the look of the newest stranger, but Wanda ignored him.

"I apologize for my actions earlier, Miss Maximoff." He spoke gravely, and Wanda understood. He expected to die on the ship, along with many other men. A sudden idea came to the witch, and Wanda immediately put it to action.

"Please Mr. Creed." Her tone was unexpectedly urgent, and Rogue looked over at her friend in confusion. This was not the calm and collected Wanda from before. This was a Wanda in pure desperation.

"Where would the man-at-arms place someone under arrest?" Wanda spoke so quickly that only Victor understood, and his face was troubled.

"It's too late for him, Wanda." It wasn't the answer Wanda wanted, and the lights overhead flickered, though the other passengers thought it was only due to the current disaster.

"I summoned the iceberg, and I see it now in your eyes." Wanda spoke softly now. She knew that Victor foresaw his own doom. "I'm doing this with or without your help... Though without will take longer." Victor looked at the young woman who had been under his care for the last few months with pity, and let out a low growl.

"Down in the F deck. Down the left corridor, seventh door on your right." Wanda was about to leave, but Victor grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him. "The water will already be there, and there isn't much time."

"How much time do we have?" Wanda asked before she could stop herself.

"The ship will sink at two. The nearest ship won't be here till four of five." Wanda didn't question how he knew what he did, she only nodded.

"Thank you." Victor nodded, and turned to leave. Wanda watched him walk to one of the parlor chairs, sit down, and ask a nearby employee for a brandy. Numb, Wanda walked back to her friends.

"Well? What did he say?" Rogue questioned. Beside her, Remy stood silent, his face pale.

"John's in Deck F, which will be nearly flooded by now." Wanda thought once more of the lack of life boats, and looked at her newly found friend.

"D'en let's go an' save Johnny boy!" Remy spoke, his tone urgent, but Wanda shook her head and turned to the southern belle.

"I'll go. I'll get John back." She swallowed to wet her throat then continued. "You catch a boat. Get out of here. There's not enough for half the people on the ship. Figure something out and get to safety." Wanda leaned forwards and wrapped the emerald eyed girl in a hug. Pulling away, the Scarlet Witch turned to Remy.

"The ship's going down in an hour. I'll be back, _with John_ before then."

* * *

Translation "Remy did not mean to scare you"

"Tu Copain" = your boyfriend

"bullshit"

"Absolutely incredible"

ALL DONE IN TWO HOURS! I AM A GOD!


	11. Chapter 11

Wanda ran down the now deserted halls of the ship, her work boots pounding heavily on the polished wooden flooring. All of the passengers were now on the top decks, scrambling around the life boats which were lacking in number. Wanda tried not to think about them, she needed to concentrate on the task at hand...

She felt her heart pound in her chest as she hurried towards the nearest elevator. There were several people, all first-class, lounging around, asking for brandy's and requesting that the heaters in their rooms are ready for them when they return. The sight made a familiar pressure cover Wanda's chest, as she thought of the ignorance and arrogance of the richer part of the ship.

The elevator came into view, and Wanda raced for it. The bellhop inside looked at her with panic in his eyes, and the Scarlet Witch smothered the sympathy she felt for him.

"I'm sorry miss, but the lifts are closed." He spoke from behind the barred gate, and Wanda could see that he wasn't about to budge. Some had already tried to get down to their suite, to pick up a personal belonging or two, but they had been turned away. Wanda tried to control her temper by breathing slowly, but it was all in vain. Her eyes flashing, the black haired teen snarled at the young man, her control over her powers slipping ever so slightly.

"I'm through being polite, God dammit!." She grabbed the gate and ripped it apart, allowing herself inside the lift. The man looked at her with fear and awe at her strength, and Wanda grabbed him by the front of his uniform. "Take me down. E-deck." The bellhop complied, his entire body shaking.

The elevator lowered steadily down, once in a while giving a large tremor, and Wanda would have to hold on to the wall to steady herself. Beside her, the bellhop was shaking and muttering. He was terrified, and had every right to be. The ride to the lower levels seemed to take forever, the only sounds Wanda could hear being the rattle of the elevator, the heavy breathing of the man beside her, and her own beating heart.

They passed another floor, and a bright blue light shone out from below. Wanda screamed in surprise as the elevator lowered them down into a pool of freezing cold water. It poured in between the iron prongs on the gate, the water coming up to their mid-thighs. Wanda shuddered at the feel. It was ice cold, making her skin feel clammy. Her pants stuck to her legs, and the bell hop beside her stuttered about returning to the upper levels.

"No!" Wanda protested with a growl, and fought the water to reach the metal gate of the elevator. The water wasn't very high, and for that she was thankful.

"I'm going back up!" The bell hop called, fear evident in his voice. Wanda ignored him as she swung the gate open and wadded into the white hall. Behind her, the water splashed as it rushed out from the elevator. The bell hop was true to his word, he left her in the lower levels of the ship, the water past her knees. It filled her boots, making her flesh erupt in goosebumps from the cold. Her teeth chattered as she held her arms close to herself. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Wanda hurried on to find John.

The further down the hall she traveled, the lower the water rose on her legs due to the ship's sinking. Soon it would seem that she was walking through puddles, rather than wadding through a pool. Wanda ignored her chattering teeth as she pushed herself onward, not willing to give up on John. Her theory was correct, and the water level quickly diminished. Before long, her sodden boots were thumping along a dry floor, the wave of ice cold water behind her, but not for long.

Panting and shivering, the Scarlet Witch looked along the deserted hall in desperation. The exact whereabouts of John were lost to her, and she knew it.

"John!" Wanda called out in desperation, inwardly wincing as her voice echoed. There was no answer to her call, and she pressed onward.

"JOHN!" The black haired beauty bellowed out, her hands flickered feebly, and the lights above followed suit. Noticing what she was doing, Wanda tried to control her breathing and with it, her powers. Chest heaving, she calmed herself, and the lights extinguished. She was in the dark.

Her body trembled from stress and cold, and Wanda tried reverse what she had unintentionally caused, but it was difficult. Her body was either unable or unwilling to set things right. The lamps above her dragged themselves back to life, only to shut off instantly. The black haired woman was left in the dark, panting heavily. Her anger was melting into grief as she leaned against the white wall. All that she could hear was her heavy breathes, and the groaning from the ship as it sunk. Wanda groaned in frustration, and the light flooded back to the hall.

With a scream of rage and frustration, Wanda leaned heavily against the painted white wall, and slammed the back of her head to the solid surface. She was losing control of her powers again, and was no closer to finding John.

"JOHN!" Wanda bellowed out to the hallway, tears threatening to fall as she awaited a mute response. She didn't expect to hear someone bellow out her name, their voice muffled, followed by a metallic clang. Wanda stood in shock as she heard the pyromaniac's voice from behind closed doors. Her heart leaped into her throat as she ran towards the voice in a near panic.

"John!"

_"Wanda! Oy'm in 'ere!"_ Pyro's voice spoke clearly through the hall, followed by a continuous clanging, and the Scarlet Witch honed into the door that the sounds came from. Calling out the red haired man's name once more, Wanda wrenched the door open, and burst through.

John Allerdyce stood, his arms handcuffed to a large, white pipe that traveled from the floor to the ceiling, and branched off.. The clanging came from him knocking the large, silver handcuffs on the pipe parallel to the ceiling. Wanda felt her heart do somersaults as she saw him, bruised but alive. It seemed that the fat old cop who had arrested him wasn't to gentle. Pyro had a bruised jaw, and was bent over his stomach as though it was sore.

"What happened to you?" Wanda blurted out, and cursed herself inwardly when she detected the worry in her voice. The man before her tried to pull off a calm, suave look, but failed wonderfully.

"Oy'm foine and dandy, luv. Jus' hangin' here." He shrugged, and grimaced in pain. Wanda ran up to his side and pulled his neck down to her level so that she could crush her mouth against his. Pyro's eyes widened in shock, and he tried to get closer to the Scarlet Witch, but to no avail since his hands were still handcuffed. Much to his disappointment, Wanda pulled away.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, John!" She apologized, and the Australian was surprised to see tears in her eyes.

"Wanda, luv. It's okay. Oy'm okay, no harm done. But Oy _need_ t' get outta here!" Wanda nodded as she spoke, and concentrated on the metallic handcuffs that imprisoned the pyromaniac. Her hands were hesitant to glow their familiar blue, and the handcuffs remained untouched. Her state of mind was shaken up, making her powers too haywire to concentrate on any one thing. They couldn't focus enough to alter the reality around the metallic objects.

The black haired woman bit her lip as she fought back tears of frustration. She felt useless and weak, unable to control the ability given to her since birth. Her powers wouldn't respond to her, and without them, she couldn't save John.

"Listen. Listen." Pyro spoke up, noticing the young girl's distress. "Oy need you to look fer a key. A big, silver key, Luv. In that cabinet over there." John motioned to a large, wooden cabinet on the opposite wall. Behind the glass doors, Wanda could see rows of small, hanging keys. Without another word, Wanda hurried over to the cabinet. Over by the metal door, water was starting to seep in. The ship was still sinking.

"Oh shoit. Oh shoit!" John swore as Wanda searched. The rattle of keys broke the thick silence, and Wanda muttered out curses as she sifted through the small objects.

"These are all brass ones!" Wanda growled with frustration, and turned back to John.

"Okay, okay. Wanda, Oy need ya to go and find something that you can use t' break the chains." John spoke, trying to keep the panic from his voice. That water had risen to his ankles already, and it was freezing. His feet were already numb, and the water was rising still. Soon it would reach his knees, and then his ankles. As Wanda bolted out the door, John wondered, morbidly, how long it would take the water to rise above his head. How long it would take for him to drown.

Wanda hurried down the hall, her breath caught in her throat as her water-filled boots thundered down on the red floor. The water was rising quicker than she anticipated, and she knew that she had to hurry. Though it would take a while yet for the water to rise enough for John to drown, it wouldn't take long for him to develop hypothermia. The Atlantic Ocean was freezing. Enough so that hitting an iceberg was a possibility.

The thudding sound of footsteps caught her attention, and Wanda was relieved to see another person. The man in blinding white was running towards her, his gait uneasy and his eyes wide with fear. Before the Scarlet Witch could understand what was being said to her, the White Star employee grabbed her hand and started to drag her in the opposite direction, away from where John was being imprisoned.

"Wait! Stop, I need your help!" Wanda cried, trying to break away from the man, but he wouldn't listen to her. In his fear, he had become unreasonable. Wanda felt her anger rise as the man before her blundered on and on, demanding that she stayed calm and didn't panic.

"I'm not _panicking_! Please! There's a man back here and he's _trapped_!" Again, the White Star employee ignored her, dragging her from the arm along the deserted hallway. Wanda felt her heart race and her breath caught in her throat as she remembered a similar treatment by frantic beings in white outfits. With a cry of outrage, Wanda dug her heels into the hard red floor.

"You're going the _wrong way_!" The Scarlet Witch snarled as she brought her arm back and slammed her fist into the man's nose. The ship's employee swore as he was pushed back into the white wall by her force, and a large splatter of blood fell to his white suit from his nose. The man looked at Wanda from behind his fingers.

"To Hell with you." The man swore once more and bolted around the corner. Wanda's only hope of helping John was gone.

Holding back tears of frustration, Wanda turned around and punched the wall behind her. The sharp pain in her hand was satisfying, and the black haired woman checked her hand to make sure that nothing important was broken. As far as her medical expertise could tell, she was fine. Twisting quickly, so that she was facing the other wall, Wanda was surprised at what she saw.

_'In Case Of Emergency'_ stared back at her in red, and behind the stern words, a large fire-axe was hung by two hooks. Grabbing the fire-hose beside the box, Wanda smashed the glass with the metal nozzle, careful not to cut her hands. Hoping that it would be enough, Wanda hurried back to John's room, axe in her hands.

The water had risen since she had left. Wanda was surprised to find the water level at her knees already. They didn't have much time. Pushing back the door with the axe handle, The Scarlet Witch was breathless at what she saw. The desk and chair floated in the water between her and John, spinning slowly due to the current of the sea water. The cabinet full of keys remained rooted to the ground due to it's weight. Wanda pushed the large wooden desk aside, and waded towards the redheaded firebug. Without hesitation, Wanda crashed her mouth against John's once more before pulling back and presenting the axe.

"Will this do?" She asked, worry clear in her voice. John stared at the large axe with uncertainty, his bottom lip between his teeth. It took him only a moment to respond.

"It'll do." Wanda nodded, and raised the axe, her hands together near the butt of the handle. John's eyes widened and he called her to stop.

"Put yer hands a lil' futher apart, luv. Spread them out." The Australian firebug instructed, and Wanda complied, spreading her hands further up the axe's wooden handle. John laid his wrists on either end of the large, horizontal pipe, awaiting the axe's fall on the taught chain when he called out once more.

"Oy trust you, Wanda." He stared at the black haired woman with wide eyes, and Wanda nodded, her brow creased in worry. Biting her lip, Wanda swung the axe blade down to the pipe. Her eyes squeezed shut; the taste of blood, _her_ blood, filled her mouth; and the loud clang of metal on metal filled the room. Wanda opened her eyes, afraid of what they'd find. John stared down at his hands in utter amazement, and dangling from both wrists were the handcuffs, and a small segment of chain. The axe had snapped the single chain in two. John switched his attention to Wanda and let out a whoop of joy. The black haired witch felt like she was going to pass out.

"Ya did it, luv!" John exclaimed, and pulled the young woman into a hard kiss. Wanda responded with enthusiasm, and they both broke away, breathless, momentarily forgetting the rising water around them.

"I'm sorry." Wanda spoke softly, and John held her tight, kissing her forehead gently. The firebug shivered as the water rose to his waist, and a sense of panic filled his chest.

"Oy know. C'mon. We need t' get on deck."

* * *

Okay. Not much more left to go. By my calculations, there's going to be two (mayyybe three) more chapters, and then it's DONE! Yahoo!


	12. Chapter 12

Okay chickies, one more chapter to go! This chapter is NOT going to be happy, i'm gonna tell you that now. Romy and Kiotr fans MIGHT want to look away...

* * *

Rogue looked around at the masses of people. Some were starting to panic, but most were still by the grand staircase, sipping their drinks. The auburn haired woman sneered at the first class gentlemen, and glanced around once more. She was waiting for Wanda to return from the lower decks with John.

"D'ere's no sign of d'em by d'e East staircase, _chere_." Remy spoke as he walked up beside her. He had gone looking for his friend moments before, and had come back empty handed. Rogue bit the inside of her cheek in thought. Already three boats had been set out, but they weren't full. The last one only had twenty or so passengers. She counted.

"What about t'e boats?" Rogue asked nervously. Remy sighed.

"_Pas bon._ D'ey're only letting _de première classe_ on d'is side." Remy swore, and Rogue felt her heart race.

"Do ya think it'll be worth it t' check the othah side?"

Remy thought over Rogue's words, and the southern belle waited in baited silence. Only the first-class women were being allowed off the sinking ship, and it would take them twenty minutes, at least, to get to see if the other side was the same. Rogue wasn't as oblivious as the people around her. She knew that their only hope of survival was to get on a lifeboat and get off the ship. Nobody would survive in the ocean.

"_Oui_. C'mon, _Chere_. D'ere's got t' be at least _une_ boat open." Remy muttered, his voice tense as he grabbed the auburn haired girl's hand. Rogue nodded and the two of them hurried around the ship, avoiding the mass of panicking passengers around them.

All around them, women and children screamed and begged, adding their cries to the noises of the crewmen around them as the White Star employees worked to get the boats flipped and ready to be cast into the sea. Men were saying goodbyes to mothers, daughters and wives, and Rogue felt emotion growing in her throat. It was a hard sight to see.

The two mutants weaved their way through the crowd, Remy's hand clasped firmly around Rogue's so that they wouldn't get separated. It was an all too-likely possibility. The second and third classes were now on deck, mingling with the richer part of the ship's society. Panic was threatening to break lose as the men were separated from the women and children. Some were starting to realize that there weren't boats. More than half of those on Titanic would drown that night...

Rogue felt her breathing come in shallow gasps as sudden grief swept over her, and Remy slowed their pace to a brisk walk. His hand migrated from her wrist to her waist, and the emerald eyed woman leaned into him.

"_Etes-vous d'accord?_" Remy questioned quietly, and Rogue translated instantly.

"Yeah. Ah'm fahyn." She responded and quickened her pace. In truth, she wasn't fine; she was scared. "We should hurraye." Without another word, Remy took hold of her hand once more as they made their way through the sudden throng of passengers. Before long, they made it to the starboard side of the ship, a trip that normally would have taken them at least half an hour to complete. They did it in ten minutes. Rogue looked around, sifting through the mass of passengers to see the lifeboats. Men in dark blue uniforms were taking women and children from the second and third classes into the boats, the men's blank faces a stark contrast to the looks of fear on the passengers. Rogue let out a sigh of relief: there was a chance they would make it out of there, alive.

"_D'accord_, Rogue. Let's go an' get _tu_ a boat." Remy muttered, his hand placed firmly on her waist, and Rogue's mind felt numb. Walking briskly towards the man in uniform, Rogue turned towards Remy. His words were starting to sink in, and she stared at the red-eyed mutant in disbelief. He was planning on to stay on the Titanic, without her.

"Wait. _Wait!_" Rogue stopped moving, panic filling her mind as she realized Remy's intentions. The crewman's hand found her waist and began to pull her toward the small lifeboat, and Rogue's eyes widened in fear. Already nearly three dozen women were waiting patiently for the boat to be lowered. They stared at their hands, or out to see, refusing to watch as others fought to stay with their loved ones.

"Remy! No, wait!" The auburn haired girl resisted, and the crewman attempted to sooth her, but she ignored him.

"_obtenir dans le bateau_." Remy insisted, his eyes hard, and Rogue shook her head.

"No. Not without _you_." Rogue snarled through clenched teeth, and tried to shake the crewman off as he started to pull her. Suddenly, Remy grabbed her hands and brought his lips to her ear.

"_Tu_ need t' get on d'is boat, Rogue. Get safe." He muttered to her, and Rogue felt her heart beat wildly in her chest. Voice caught in her throat, she allowed the crewman to drag and lift her off the ship, and into the lifeboat dangling over the side. The white banged girl never took her eyes off the Cajun thief's as she was placed between two other girls, both of them older than her and crying.

"_Vous serez très bien. Obtenez à la sécurité._" Remy called out to her, but Rogue found that she didn't understand. Her translation was getting rusty as her mutation wore off, and her knowledge of French faded. The urge to scream was strong as the crewman in blue announced that she was the last one, and ordered the boat to be lowered. As the boat jerked down a foot, Rogue felt the panic she had tried to control, break loose. Hyperventilating, the green eyed mutant fought her way to the lifeboat's side closest to the Titanic, and felt her hand's shake as they gripped the wooden railing. The boat dropped several more inches, and the open window of the second walkway showed itself. Without giving a second thought, Rogue leaned far over the lifeboat's side, and leaped.

Gasps and cries filled the air, cutting out the yells and commands from the crewmen above her, and for a moment, Rogue thought that her jump was short, and that instead of landing on the wooden rail of the Titanic, she would fall into the Atlantic Ocean. But that thought was dashed as her stomach collided painfully with the wooden rail, and she grasped quickly at whatever she could to stop herself from falling overboard. All around her, arms grabbed at her clothing and limbs, trying to stop her from doing just that. It only took seconds for Rogue to be pulled on deck.

Chest heaving, Rogue found her footing and bolted down the boardwalk. Her legs felt numb and her chest was burning, but she didn't stop. Without thinking, the young mutant pulled out a black strip of cloth as she ran, and held it firmly in her fist. Sprinting down the walkway, she didn't bother to avoid those in her way, and simply pushed her way though the throng. Tears streamed down her face as she moved in a blind panic towards the Grand Staircase, and she felt as though her heart was going to explode.

Pushing her way though the glass doors, Rogue found herself at the foot of the beautiful staircase, the golden light making her eyes water more. The room's occupants were mostly first class gentlemen, each giving Rogue a dark look in turn. She knew she looked a mess. It took her only a moment to find the man who had raced down to find her when she had jumped. Holding back a sob, Rogue placed the black handkerchief between herself and Remy, and crashed her mouth against his.

His gloved hands found their way to her face, holding the cloth in place as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her body against him. After a moment, Remy pulled away, panting.

"_Vous êtes tellement stupide_." Remy spoke, his voice shaky as he wiped the tears away from Rogue's face. She didn't reply, but wrapped her arms around his waist. "_Pourquoi_? _Pourquoi_ would _tu_ do somed'ing so _stupide_?" Remy asked and Rogue pressed her head against his chest. She could hear his erratic heartbeat, and felt his shake along with her. He was just as scared as she was.

"You jump, Ah jump, remembah?" Rogue muttered as she stood, trembling in his arms. Remy stayed silent for a moment, his arms wrapping protectively around the small woman.

"Ah couldn't do it, Remy. Ah couldn't."

"It's okay, _Chere_. _nous allons_ find anod'er way." Remy soothed the green eyed girl in his arms, his hands rubbing her shaking back. Rogue sniffed pitifully before speaking up.

"We need t' find John and Wanda."

* * *

Kitty and Piotr hurried up the white painted steps to the top decks of the ships. Kitty's hand was grasped tightly in the tall Russian's as they flew up flight after flight of stairs, their chests heaving as they gasped for air. Kitty's legs trembled from underneath her as she ran, but didn't stop, forcing her legs to endure the strain. After what seemed like ages, the two passengers stood at the top of the stairs, both panting from their effort. On the way up, Kitty had seen an iron gate, blasted apart at the top of a staircase. The valley girl barely had time to wonder what had happened before she was pulled away once more by her quiet companion. Now on the top deck, surrounded by panicking passengers, the two of them staired at utter madness.

Passengers both rich and poor ran around frantically, screaming and cursing. Once every while, two or three of them would collide, before falling to the floor to be trampoled. Kitty had given up trying to recognize someone almost instantly. It was impossible to distinguise if someone running by was male or female, let alone if you knew them.

"What now?" Kitty looked up to her tall companion, and noticed the strained look in his eyes.

"Ve get you a boat." Piotr spoke loudly over the commotion around them, but Kitty shook her head violently at his words.

"You're coming with me. You've like, _got_ to. Someone around here will let you on." The young valley girl insisted, and the Russian giant stared down at her sadly, before being dragged off towards the lifeboats, and the large mob that surrounded them.

Gathered by the boats, crewmen worked quickly to ready the boats for the awaiting passengers. The sounds of the crowd around them was deafening as vicious voices mingled with the sounds of the ship's engine, and Kitty was forced to cover her ears to block out the madness. Beside her, Piotr held her small frame close to him, so that they wouldn't get separated as they were pushed and jostled around by other passengers. The brown haired girl watched as a tall man pushed one of the crewmen keeping the crowd back, and was accidentally thrown overboard, into the icy water below.

Noticing the danger of the crowds, the officer in blue pulled out a pistol and shot into the air. Kitty screamed and ducked at the noise as the crewman in charge gave warning and demanded order. Now silent with fear, the passengers stopped crowding, their eyes regarding the officer with hatred. Kitty pulled herself tighter to Piotr, not willing to admit that she was scared.

* * *

The dark haired woman and her Australian companion stared in shock at the minor chaos round them. The water from below deck had yet to reach the lifeboats and other passengers, but it wouldn't take long. Of that, Wanda was sure. Turning quickly to the orange haired man beside her, the Scarlet Witch was now fully aware of the fear coursing through her veins.

"We're not going to get a boat with all this going on." The black haired woman hissed, using anger to hide her terror, and the Australian pyromaniac rubbed her back soothingly, seeing through her ruse.

"Oy don' think we're gonna fin' a boat anyway, luv." The blue eyed man spoke through clenched teeth, a plan forming in his mind. The ship was sinking faster now, the bow already submerged. With no hope of catching a lifeboat to safety, their only option was to stay on the ship, out of water, for as long as possible. Pyro spoke of his thoughts aloud to the young woman before him, and noticed the fear in her eyes.

"The water's freezin'. Twenty minutes treddin' water, and we'll be done for. We need to get t' the stern, the end of the ship. She's gonna go down, ass in the air, and that's were we'll need t' be." John spoke quickly, his eyes searching Wanda's, and the girl in red nodded understandingly.

"We need to go." The black haired girl spoke, her voice hard with fear as she grasped John's hand hard, and pulled him along the deck of the ship, into the mob of passengers. The two mutants were surrounded by the second and third classes, a fact that didn't escape Wanda. It seemed that all the first class ladies and gentlemen had no problems getting to safety.

As they pushed their way through the panicking crowds, John pulled ahead of Wanda, and dragged her along at his speed. It would take them a while yet to get to the stern of the ship, taking time that they couldn't spare. The Australian pushed on, nearly desperate to get away from the thick crowds as the bow of the ship sank lower and lower into the Atlantic. They were out of the open corridor in record time, but still they didn't slow their pace. Wanda found herself glancing up to the sky, losing herself in the stars. Her breathe came out as puffs of vapor, and her bare arms shivered at the sudden cold. In a few moments they would be numb, and it would be hard to imagine that anything could be colder than the icy air around them.

Lost in her thoughts, Wanda felt herself misstep as she ran, and she tumbled to the ground, her soft hand slipping from John's. She fell to the ground hard, her arm still outstretched in front of her as her hips collided painfully to the frozen wooden floor. The panicking passengers around her didn't stop, too preoccupied with their own fears to notice a young girl's fall, and Wanda noticed the real fear of being trampled. Scrambling to get to her feet, but finding her movements clumsy, the black haired woman was surprised when a pair of hands gripped her upper arm firmly while supporting her back. Looking behind her, Wanda noticed the familiar silver hair of her brother, and twisted in his grip so that she faced him.

"Pietro!" She exclaimed in surprise. She hadn't expected her brother to stick around, sure that he was already on a lifeboat, away from the sinking danger that was the Titanic.

"Wanda-what-the-hell-are-you-still-doing-here? Why-didn't-you-get-on-a-damn-boat? And-what-the-hell-is_-he_-doing-here? I-thought-he-was-locked-up!" The silver haired mutant spoke quickly, his anger rising when he noticed John running up behind his sister. Wanda turned to glance back at the Australian before turning her attention back to her brother. Her father wasn't in sight, and for that she was grateful.

"I broke him out." Wanda stated simply before gasping in fear and surprise as a second familiar voice responded.

"That, it obvious." Magneto looked down at his daughter as he emerged from the panicking mob beside the three mutants. His face showed now sign of displeasure at seeing his daughter, but Wanda was still wary.

"Look at you, you must be freezing." Erik Lehnsherr looked down at Wanda, his quick gaze noting every tremble and shiver. "Here, take my coat." He removed his black jacket, and made a move to give it to the black haired woman, but Wanda shied away, glaring at him with uncertainty. At her refusal, Erik's normally stoic expression turned suddenly to fury, and he grabbed his daughter wrist, squeezing painfully.

"I've had enough of your games!" Magneto snarled as Wanda fought to escape from her father's grasp. Beside her, John swore out in anger and surprise, and Pietro's face paled as the blood drained away.

"No! Let me _go_!" The red clad girl grunted at her father, giving a small shriek as he pulled her closer to him. Before John or Peitro could react, the Scarlet witch pulled back as far her arms would allow, spat in her father's face. Her distraction worked, and Erik's grip lessened enough that Wanda was able to rip her wrist from her father's grasp and run off, John right behind her. She never looked back.

"Yer roight crazy, luv." John cackled madly as he kept up to Wanda as she sprinted through the crowd. The black haired witch glanced at John in surprise. He called her crazy as though it was a good thing. A thing to celebrate, not fear or loath. Smiling softly, Wanda reached out and grasped the pyromaniac's hand as she ran from her father, and her past life.

* * *

The water was rising, Kitty noticed with fear. Already it pooled at people's feet, soaking through her shoes and up the hem of her skirt, making her movements slow. Around her and Piotr, the panic was rising in the crowd, and the crewmen were growing nervous. The head officer had his gun out once more, but it stayed at his side. Kitty didn't pay attention to the metallic weapon. She stared at the officer's eyes, not finding any comfort in their brown depths, glazing over with fear. The crewmen had filled and lowered a boat while she and Piotr had waited. They still weren't letting men off the ship. The crowd around the two mutants rose in volume, and the officer raised his gun. A warning.

"Order. Order I say! Or I'll shoot you all like _dogs_." The man spat out, but Kitty saw his fear. Growing nervous, the valley girl clung to Piotr's arm, looking for comfort that he gave so willingly. The crowd settled down once more, but it took longer than normal. The water rose in waves around them, and Kitty shivered at its icy touch. It was slowly seeping up her foot. It wouldn't be long before it was above her ankles...

The crowd's panic rose once more, like a wave, and Kitty felt the mob behind her pushing. Someone's child cried, but nobody bothered to quiet it. Kitty felt herself being slowly pushed towards the officer, the passengers separating her from Piotr. She didn't want to be separated, and the small girl quickly found out that panic was contagious. Quickly, she tried to push her way back towards the Russian, forgetting her mutation. The more she tried to squeeze her way past the mob, the more they pushed back at her. Finally, one man shoved her away, his large hands prodding painfully at her chest and shoulders, and Kitty heard a deafening bang.

The crowd pushed back, away from the small girl as quickly as they could, their eyes wide, but no longer controlled by senseless fear. Kitty felt her knees give in from under her as a sharp pain grew in her abdomen. Her eyes were wide as she watched as Piotr made his way through the crowd, pushing people aside as though they weighed nothing. She noticed him tremble as he drew closer, and felt her breath draw in in quick bursts. The pain was everywhere now.

"Kitten." Piotr muttered softly as he pulled her quickly against him, and the brunette gasped in pain at the sudden movement. She twisted her fingers into his shirt as the air grew colder than she thought possible. No words were shared as she lied in the giant's arms, and he brushed the hair out of her eyes. The both jumped as a second bang was heard, followed by a yell and a splash of water, but neither cared to see who had been the second victim of the nervous officer.

Kitty stared into Piotr's eyes as she died, not wanting to look down and see the blood, _her_ blood stain herself, Piotr, and the ocean water around them. She wanted to see his face forever, through the dark which was sure to come.

* * *

"John. _John_! There they are!" Wanda nearly screamed as she motioned ahead of her to the two mutants who had caught her eye. Pyro looked ahead, and his eyes fell on a pale girl with white bangs against auburn hair.

"REMY!" The Australian bellowed, catching the attention of most of the passengers around him, including the card throwing mutant. Remy and Rogue quickly turned around, running against the current of scared passengers to meet with their friends.

"Johnny!" The Cajun exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around his friend and partner in crime, and patted the Australian hard on the back. The two boys pulled away, and Remy repeated the process with Wanda.

"_Vous lui avez trouvé. Vous __le ramena_!" The tall mutant spoke sincerely as he wrapped his arms around the black haired girl and squeezed tightly. Forgetting the chaos around them, Wanda blushed as she muttered, stating that it was nothing. Beneath her feet, the ship groaned, and the black haired witch pulled away quickly, her eyes wide.

"We need t' get to the back of the ship." John went over the plan with his best friend, and Remy nodded, his red on black eyes grave.

"D_'accord._ Remy'll keep wi'd Rogue, Johnny wi'd Wanda. It'll be too hard fer all of us t' stick togeder." John nodded while his friend explained their predicament perfectly. Sticking together with one person was difficult enough. Keeping track of three other people would be impossible.

"See ya on the other side, mate." John patted the Cajun thief on the shoulder, and Remy did the same. Beside the, Rogue and Wanda rolled their eyes at the manly good-byes before pulling each other into a brief hug.

"You keep an eye on him." Wanda attempted to lighten the crushing sensation of dread, and Rogue chuckled.

"Two when Ah can spare 'em." The southern belle joked back, but Wanda could see the fear and uncertainty. Without another word shared, the two couples parted ways. Wanda tried to keep up with John as he dragged her into the massive mob, never looking back.

The ship's decent into the sea was noticeable now, as the stern of the ship was raised slowly into the air, and the race towards the back was turned into an uphill climb. Wanda felt her feet slip on the wooden boards, and John's firm grasp on her waist holding her up. Around her, people scream and cried in fear. Several times, a head would disappear as the person's body slipped from under them, and slid down the deck. Wanda tried not to think of the unlucky passengers's fates.

After what seemed like an eternity, they made it to the stern of the ship. Wanda grabbed hold of the rail for dear life as the Titanic's rear rose higher and higher into the air, making the floor grow steeper by the moment. Grunting in her efforts, Wanda climbed around the rail to grab hold of the flag pole connected firmly to the ship, the metal rod now almost horizontal in the air. It wouldn't take long before they were hanging by their fingers...

A sudden groan from down by the water level caught Wanda and John's attention, and the pyromaniac looked at the wooden deck in fear and sudden realization.

"Hold on toight, Wanda. Don't let go." The Australian stared deep into Wanda's blue eyes, and the young mutant nodded with determination. She wouldn't disappoint the man before her, no matter what.

Before John could explain further, a loud series of cracks was heard from near the center of the ship, and the passengers watched in horror as the Titanic started to split in two. The sound of screaming rose as several men and women slid down the now vertical deck made the Scarlet Witch cringe with fear and pity at their deaths, and John's hand wrapped protectively around her own.

The cracking grew louder, and Wanda felt a scream escape her lips as the stern of the ship suddenly plummeted towards the ocean water. The sickening feeling of vertigo settled in her stomach, and she felt her body slam painfully into the rail and flagpole as the ship's belly hit water. Several passengers holding onto the rail alongside her lost their grip, and fell, screaming to the waters below, and Wanda squeezed her eyes shut.

"The ship's gonna go vertical once more, an' then it's gonna sink." John spoke quickly to the black haired woman in his arms, hiding the fear he felt so he could comfort her better. "Don' be scared."

"I'm not scared." Wanda opened her eyes and managed to glare at the red headed man before her, so to prove her point. John smiled, and kissed her forehead protectively. As he predicted, the stern of the ship rose in the air once more, and Wanda held onto the rail tight enough to make her knuckles turn white. Her breathing came out in short bursts, creating small clouds of vapor in the air, and she found herself searching the dark horizon for help. She could see nothing. The ship's half stayed motionless in the air for a moment, before slowly sinking. The screaming around them was worse now, and Wanda found herself clinging fearfully to the man before her.

"When the ship goes down, it's gonna suck the water down with it. You'll need t' kick up t' the surfoice, Wanda. Keep kickin', and don't let go of moy hand." John demanded, and Wanda nodded. As the ship sank, she and Pyro stood up on the rail, readying themselves for the icy waters below. It took only moments, and Wanda gasped at as the water bubbled around them in. Taking a deep breath, the black haired witch felt the water surround her.

Freezing was an understatement. As the water constricted her chest and stung her eyes, Wanda kicked out, her hand grasping onto John's for dear life. It felt as though she was spinning in circles, moving further and further from the surface, and closer to the depths below, and fear nearly took total control. She felt John's hand leave her own, and she screamed.

Suddenly, her head broke through the surface of the water, and Wanda drew in large gasps of air. The screaming around her was deafening, and she found herself in the center of it all. Trying to gather her bearings, Wanda struggled in the water as someone behind her jumped on her back, pushing her underwater. Panic threatened to overtake her sense of reason as she thrashed underwater, the salty ocean shooting up her nose and in her mouth. As soon as it happened, it stopped, and the blue eyed woman popped up through the water once more like a cork.

"Wanda. Wanda, c'mere." John's voice broke through the screaming crowd, and the Scarlet Witch turned to the sound of his voice. Ignoring the drowning mob around her, she and John swam away, towards the open sea. The going was slow, but time seemed to not exist to Wanda as she only concentrated on moving forward.

"R-right... here." John panted, his teeth chattering from the cold as he motioned towards a large wooden object in the water. The mass mob was behind them, and they were alone. The pyromaniac helped Wanda climb on top of the dark object before resting his head on the wood in exhaustion.

"No, no. You c-come up here, t-to-too." Wanda murmured as her entire body trembled from the cold. She refused to see that the Australian didn't have the strength to join her above the water.

"It'll flip."

"It won't." Wanda insisted, and the orange haired man gave in. Leaning over to the far side of the make-shift raft, Wanda held her hand out for John to grab, allowing him to pull himself up. For one sickening moment, the black haired girl thought that he was right, and that their raft would flip over, flinging them into the icy water once more, but her hands shone blue with a familiar light, and the wooden object righted itself. Sighing heavily, the Australian firebug felt his body relax completely, and he was left to stare at the stars. With her powers still concentrated on the raft, Wanda was able to shift over to his side, and rest her head on his chest.

"It's s-so cold."

* * *

"It's fuckin' _freezing_" Rogue hissed as she laid carefully on the small mass of unrecognizable objects. It was just large enough to keep her mostly out of the icy Atlantic, but that was all. Her legs and arms pooled in the cold water, and Remy clung to the side, his body completely submerged. They had stayed on the ship till the last minute, and when it was gone, they had fought to get away from the main crowd of screaming passengers. That had been almost twenty minutes ago, and now the night was quite. No one was left to scream.

"D'e boats will come back. D'ey are j-j-just waitin' fer d'e pass-s-sengers t' set-t-tle down." The card throwing mutant stuttered with cold, and Rogue covered his frozen hands with her gloved ones. Neither talked for some time, and the southern belle felt her cheeks burn as tears fell and froze. Remy's lips were turning blue, and she could hear that his breath was shallow. She wasn't faring much better, but at least she was out of the water...

"_Je t'aime_, Rogue. _Plus que t-toute a-a-autre femme que j'ai jam-mais rencontré._" Remy whispered, and Rogue felt her hands clench painfully over his.

"No. No, no, no. Yer n-not sayin' yer g-g-good-byes yet." The gothic woman snarled at the Cajun, and Remy smiled sadly at her. "Yer not goin' like this, damn swamp rat." The southern belle insisted, and bit her lip to stop the tears from falling faster.

"_Tu_ s-st-still 'ave a chance, _Chere_. D'e boats w-will c-come back, an' _tu_ won' have t' die like dis." Remy continued, and Rogue shook her head strongly. She didn't want to hear it.

"Ah'm not goin' anyw-where without y-you... You j-jump, Ah jump, r-r-remembah?" The auburn haired woman insisted. She didn't want to see the pain on his face, but it was right in front of her. It was breaking her.

"_Ensuite, laissez-moi d'être avec_ vous." What little French Rogue had left was enough, and the emerald eyed woman was able to translate. Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened in horror at the look of absolute determination and certainty displayed on the Cajun's face, and Rogue felt her body tremble in a way that had nothing to do with the cold.

"Ah c-can't." She protested feebly, voice thick with emotion, and Remy's fingers clenched and unclenched from beneath her hands.

"_Tu _can." Red on black eyes bore into green, and Rogue let out a shuddery breath as she came to her decision. The two mutants leaned closer, till their lips were inches from touching, and Rogue felt that her heart was either going to explode, or she'll break down sobbing.

"Ah love you." She whispered, and crashed her mouth against his. The explosion of memories and knowledge was nothing to the emotional pain she felt as she understood what she was doing. Remy's hands held her face gently as his very life force was absorbed, and Rogue felt his tears as they landed on her cheek. She knew everything. His feelings towards those closest to him; his skills in thievery; and the absolute love that he felt for her. Memories blended together so fast that Rogue couldn't tell the difference between which were hers, and which belonged to the dying man before her, but it didn't matter anymore. His memories would be come hers, completely. As soon as it started, it stopped, and Rogue rested her head against the frozen raft in pain and grief.

"_Je t'aime_." She muttered once more, and felt the slack hands slip from her grasp as Remy descended to the ocean floor. She had his memories, his thoughts, and his skills, but as she curled up on herself, she felt that she had more than that. She felt less empty than before, and as she rested her arms protectively over her abdomen, she believed she knew why.

* * *

"_Come Josephine... on my flying machine... going up she goes... up she goes..._" Wanda sang lightly as she stared up at the starry sky, almost delirious with cold. Beside her, John shivered, nearly unconscious. The only hint that she had that he was still alive, was the almost rhythmic way he gently squeezed her hand. The night was silent now, empty of the screams and cries of the passengers from the sunken ship.

"Wanda." The figure beside her croaked, but the black haired woman barely had enough energy to turn her neck to look at him. As she debated simply closing her eyes and letting go, the Australian called her name once more, this time moving to nudge her hand.

"There's a boat." His voice no longed trembled from the cold. They were both too far exposed to hypothermia to shiver. Their bodies were shutting down, slowly, but surely.

"There's a boat." John's voice was slightly more urgent now, and Wanda acknowledged him slowly, her brows furrowed as she tried to remember what the words he spoke meant.

"Can you make a loight?" The firebug questioned, his voice barely higher than a murmur, and Wanda looked down at her hands, blue with cold. Closing her eyes in concentration, the Scarlet Witch tried to bend the reality around the water and wood enough to create a flame, a spark,_ anything_. At first it seemed like a lost cause as Wanda sat up and hovered a numb hand over the water-lodged raft, but as John's arm wrapped around her shoulder, she felt her powers growing strength. Barely conscious, Wanda watched without amazement as several sparks appeared above the water. The effort was almost enough to sap her completely of her strength, and as Wanda succumbed to the blackness around her, she saw a large flame engulf the air around them, creating a signal fire that all would be able to see.

* * *

_____Etes-vous d'accord?_ - Are you okay?  


___obtenir dans le bateau_ - get in the boat_  
_

_Vous serez très bien. Obtenez à la sécurité._ - You will be fine. Get to safety.

_Vous lui avez trouvé. Vous le ramena_ - You found him, you brought him back.

_Je t'aime, __Rogu_e - I love you, Rogue

_Plus que toute autre femme que j'ai jamais rencontré. _- More than any other woman I ever met.

_Ensuite, laissez-moi d'être __avec vous_ - Then let me be with you

For those wondering... The second shot was from the officer shooting himself... it's all in the movie...


	13. Epilogue

Okay, here's the Epilogue!

* * *

Wanda remembered very little of her and John's rescue. She remembered daybreak, the light bringing her back from the absolute darkness; the inaudible shouts of men around and above her, echoing like they were far, far away; and she remembered John holding her, staying near her, and threatening a crewman's life when he offered to take her on board a large ship without him. He wouldn't be separated from her, and for that, Wanda was grateful.

It was now near noon four days after the disaster, and Wanda was on the deck of a ship that she still didn't know the name of. It was smaller than the Titanic, but there were less passengers. Only seven hundred, of the two thousand something passengers survived the disaster, and Wanda was surprised to find that her father and brother were among them. She had seen her father search the steerage for her, but she had been well hidden by John, and she was happy by the thought that she would never see him again.

"Captain says that we'll be in New York in about six hours." John muttered low, his lips against her ear, and Wanda leaned into his touch. In the four days that she had spent on the ship that had rescued them, she hadn't been out of the Australian's sight. They had both been through a lot, and neither wanted to be separated.

"When the ship docks, I'm going off with you." Wanda murmured, soft enough that John almost missed what she had said. His arms wrapped around her shoulders protectively, and the young woman grabbed onto his shirt for comfort.

"Wanda. Oy'm a poor man. Oy have no money on me, _nothing_ t' give ya. It'd be crazy." John explained, his voice bitter at his own predicament, and Wanda slipped her hand softly into his, and squeezed lightly.

"I know. The crazy's what makes it feel so right." She murmured softly, and before he could respond, she kissed him softly. "I know that it's going to be hard, and that I don't really know what I'm getting into. But I'm getting off this boat as Wanda Allerdyce, whether you like it or not." The blue eyed woman threatened softly, and John responded by placing a small kiss on her forehead, knowing that she was serious, and feeling happier than ever before.

* * *

It was raining as the Carpathia docked at New York's pier, full with the Titanic's survivors. Rogue remembered watching in awe as the ship sailed past the Statue of Liberty, and she was able to see the woman's smiling face against the dark night sky. She hadn't talked to anybody since she had been picked up in the middle of the ocean by a lifeboat that had gone back to check for survivors. They had come by her purely by accident, their real destination was the twisting tower of fire out on the water. The southern belle had watched in pure shock and surprise as the small lifeboat picked up the nearly catatonic figures of Wanda and John. They didn't see her, and for that, she was glad. She wouldn't have been able to handle that encounter.

Now the ship was docking, and Rogue could see the masses of people waiting to catch a glimpse of the Titanic survivors. The southern belle noticed several shelter organizations among the masses, and was glad. She would need a place to stay while she waited for her father. Though she hadn't seen the old man when the ship had gone down, she knew he would have survived, and _swam_ to New York if that's what it took.

"You're name, Miss?" One of the crewmen asked her, holding a clipboard and paper. Rogue regarded the young man without interest, and glanced down at her hands, still wrapped protectively around her abdomen.

"LeBeau. Rogue LeBeau." She muttered softly as tears threatened to break away once more. The crewman nodded, and Rogue walked down the wooden plank. It wasn't the end. It was the beginning.


End file.
